The Minor Fall and the Major Lift
by lil-rock14
Summary: I remember the first time Dean came to me to save his life. Bobby POV
1. Chapter 1

**The Minor Fall and the Major Lift**

**This is a part of my Supernatural fix that I have been on lately. I've been wanting to write this story ever since 'Dream a Little Dream of Me'. I love Dean and Bobby's relationship. And ever since Dean said one specific line to Bobby, I had to go back and watch the other seasons to see their relationship. And I think that line has been said to each other more than once. If you don't know what line I'm talking about, you'll know when you come across it eventually.**

Summary: I remember the first time Dean came to me to save his life. Bobby POV

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story besides the idea behind it.**

I remember the first time Dean came to me to save his life. I mean, I've probably saved his life more times than I could count before that time. But it was because his father brought him to me or he was too stubborn to come to me, so I ended up going to him. This time was on his own accord. He came to me.

LRLRLRLRLRLRLRLR

I had gotten a call from his father, cursing and yelling like a mad man, five days ago saying that he was missing for two days. It confused me, worried me, and scared me all at the same time. He'd never scare his father that way, and John was definitely scared. So something was definitely wrong.

When I was yanked out of my dreams at two in the morning by the purr of the Winchester Impala, all of my concern and worry went out the window. All I could see and feel was red and anger toward the middle Winchester.

I stood at my front door waiting for a knock on it. I ended up waiting a lot longer than I planned and thought that maybe the kid lost his balls somewhere on the drive over. I should've known better than for him to back down from anything. As I opened the door, on the other side he stood with his hand raised, about to knock. "Bobby," he said, surprised that the door opened before he had laid a hand on it.

"Dean Winchester! Why the hell would you worry your father like that? He's driving himself sick not know where you are. Did you not think to give him a phone call? Of all the stupid and irresponsible things to do. And from you of all people?"

"Sorry, Bobby," he whispered.

"Sorry won't cut it, Dean. You can't wake me up at this hour and expect that to be a sufficient enough apology!"

"I just…" his voice trailed off as he turned his back to me.

The anger haze fell from my eyes. I gasped and took a step back from the boy standing in front of me. He started to walk down my porch steps and I realized how slow his steps were. "Dean," I said, my voice less angry then it was a few seconds ago. I waited for him to turn around and he did. Although he had a problem with most authority, there were a few people in the universe that were an exception to the rule. I was one of them and he always listened to me. "Dean, can you tell me what day of the week is it? And don't you dare try and lie to me if you don't know," I threatened.

He held onto the banister of on my steps so tightly as if he let go, he'd fall. Like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "I don't know, sir," he replied. He looked as if he were falling asleep on my porch.

He called me 'sir'. The only times he'd ever called me that was when he was using his sarcastic tongue against me, or when he was hallucinating that I was his father, or when he was scared. That one word, one syllable, and three letters made me listen. But most of all, when it fell from his mouth to my ears, it scared me more than any demon could. It never meant well and it lit a fire in the pit of my stomach.

I left the confines of my house and closed the distance between him and myself in three steps. I put his head in my hands and wince inwardly when I felt the heat coming from him. I used my thumbs to pry his eyes open. "Dean, look at me," I said. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have been so rough with him, but that was the only thing that could get through to him.

"Yes, sir," he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Stop calling me sir."

"Okay," he said, struggling to keep the title from crossing the barrier of his lips.

"Dean, tell me what happened to you."

Even in the dark I could see how dilated his pupils were. He licked his lips, preparing himself to speak. His eyes drifting shut again. "Too many. Too many of them. Outnumbered."

His hand slipped from the banister and lucky that I was holding him, or he could've seriously hurt himself. He fell to his knees and groaned as I caught him. With that noise I knew that there were more injuries than I could see. "Dean," I pressed, still holding him up by his head. "Where are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he replied. His own personal mantra. The mantra that irritated me more than anything in the world.

I started to see red again. I know that he didn't just lie to my face. "Dean Winchester!" I yelled. He lifted his head a few centimeters to try and meet my eyes. I'll never forget the pain I saw in them, but it disappeared as quickly if not faster than they appeared. That kid has gotten better at hiding pain. "I'm going to ask you the question again and if you lie to me, I want you to leave because I never want to see you again." The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them. I'd never turn him away he should know that but a flash in his eyes told me that he believed what I just said. His breathing quickened and if I didn't stop him, he was going to pass out. "Dean, where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere," he choked out.

I rested his forehead on my shoulder and rubbed circles on his back to calm his breathing. "It's okay, son."

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," he cried into my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

My shoulder got moist either from tears, sweat, or both, but I didn't mind. "Don't be, Dean."

My heart broke for the kid in my arms. We stayed like that until his breathing evened out. I lost track of time, but I wouldn't have been surprised if we were in that position for an hour. My knees went numb, but that didn't matter. All that did was the seventeen-year-old in my embrace.

I lifted his head off my shoulder and saw his eyes closed. If he fell asleep or passed out from exhaustion, it didn't matter, because this was probably the most relaxed since this whole ordeal started. His father said he'd been missing for two days, five days ago. An entire week. But who knows how long it had been for him.

I picked him up in a bridal carry, disgusted at how easy it was. I carried him into the room that he'd stay at every time he graced me with his presence. The room that belonged to him since he was five years old. He sunk into his bed when I put him in it. When I turned on the light, I got a glimpse of what his body probably looked like from his face. The bruises on his face were emphasized by the paleness of it.

I shuddered to think what was hidden under his layers of clothes.

Starting with his jacket and over-shirt, I began peeling the layers off of him. His final shirt proved to be trouble, so I decided to just cut it off. I don't know what worried me more, the blood on the shirt or the bruises covering his entire upper body. When I rolled him over, on his back, more bruises wrapped around his torso along with two perfectly parallel gashes down his back almost a foot apart on his upper back. One was still oozing blood. I bit my lip in horror.

I made my way to his jeans and was glad that he was wearing basketball shorts under them, not that I haven't seen him in all his glory before. But that was ten years ago, when he had passed out in the shower after a hunt.

If it were possible, his legs looked worse. Along with the gash and bruises, there were burns that looked infected on them. "Jesus, Dean. How did you get yourself up here?" I said as I saw his wrists and ankles covered in heavy bruises and rope burns. Whoever did this to Dean had him bound, and he fought like hell to get out of it.

My admiration grew for the boy who was slowly transforming into a man.

I sat back on the chair at his beside, pissed as hell. It became my personal mission to find whoever did this to Dean make sure that the son of a bitch paid. But revenge could wait until I made sure Dean was well.

Damn, his chest looked mangled. There were definitely fractures if not breaks in them. "I'm sorry, Dean," I apologized to him even though I knew he couldn't hear me.

I pushed gently on his ribcage searching for breaks, wincing as I did. I didn't want to find any breaks as much as he didn't want me to find any breaks. I pushed down on an area that looked the most deformed and he moaned and tried to roll away from the pain.

That was the first break.

I found one more break and two possible fractures the more I probed. Each time I found a tender spot, I had to hold him down from rolling away from me. But what did he know? I could've been causing him more pain that his captives did. Pain gathered in his brow and massaged it away. The longer that I massaged, the more relaxed he became to my touch. He became so accustomed to it that he groaned when I took it away.

My back was turned to him to prepare the bandages to bind his ribs. "Bobby?" he whispered. "I'm sorry."

I quickly turned to him and saw that his eyes were open and alert. And that meant he was feeling pain. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. It's okay," I said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts to breathe."

"It's okay," I said. "Your ribs are mangled. I'm going to have to sit you up to wrap you." Dean gave me a nod to show that he understood. I sat on his bedside with my hand preparing to lift him. "On three," I warned. I made eye contact with Dean and he gave me a look to say now or never. "Three."

And we sat him up. He bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. He grasped onto my shirt so tightly as if it was his lifeline, burying his face in my chest. "You lying son of a bitch," Dean mumbled over and over again when he finally caught his breath.

A sheet of sweat formed on his entire body and I knew that I had to get through with wrapping him so I could clean his leg wounds and break his fever. His chest heaved as he sat waiting for me to do what I needed to do so he could go back to sleep. I rubbed some ointment on the cuts on his back trying to ignore the hiss every time I did.

I finished wrapping him and tipped his chin to look at me. "Too tight?" I asked. "Breathe," I commanded and he took a deep breath in and let it out.

"Perfect," he said.

"Dean."

"I promise."

"Are you up for telling me what happened, or are you too tired?"

"I can," he said.

I helped lie him back down. His head lolled to the side and his eyes drifted to a close. They shot back open to answer my question. "No one's holding a gun to your head, Dean. If you're too tired…"

"Couldn't hurt them," he whispered. "Possessed."

"Who?" I asked.

"Football team," he gulped.

"How many?"

He swallowed before he spoke trying to read me and find out if he should lie to me to make me feel better. But it didn't matter because I would've been mad no mater how many from a football team were coming after him. "Seven," he said. His eyes drifted closed, but he fought to keep them open. It was a losing battle. "Bobby," he pleaded.

"It's okay, son. Just go to sleep." He looked as if he wanted to say more to me, but he fell back asleep before he could. "You did good, Dean." I said as I massaged his brow again, relaxing him further into his dreams. "I promise that I'll get the sons of a bitches who did this to you." That was one promise that I made that I'd die before I didn't keep it.

**So, here is chapter one. I guess this story should have been posted before 'The Instrumental Battle Cry' because it has a link to it eventually. It just goes with what I want to happen in the third season or fourth season, or whatever season. I hope this turned out all right. Please no flames. Thanks for reading and please review. Lil-Rock**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea for this story.**

When I finally finished with wrapping his legs and cleaning his body, the sun had come up. The boy lying in front of me didn't look like the boy I'd watched grow-up. He was almost unrecognizable under all of the bandages. I was concerned about the wounds on his back and his rib cage. His wrists and ankles were most tender from being bound. And the fever he sported was a bit alarming.

Which brought up the question of how the hell did he get away from them?

And to think that I was going to tear his ass apart when I first saw him on my porch. I should've known better than to think Dean would be so irresponsible. And I wondered why did I get so angry with him?

I was worried.

I have a soft spot in my heart for that kid. But I'd never vocalize it, even if the kid needed it sometimes. A lot of the time. The kid carried himself as if he had the entire world on his shoulders, and it was because his father dropped it on him. There was something special about Dean, but I didn't know what it was yet.

He was wrapped in enough bandages to look like a mummy. Although I wanted to do more to make him comfortable, at that point, there was nothing else. So, I decided to let the kid rest.

But as soon as I crossed the threshold, he started tossing in the bed as if he were fighting some invisible force. "No," he forced from his lips. "I don't know," he gasped for breath. He was having a fever dream.

All of the supplies that I had in my hands were dropped to the floor as I made my way back to his side. "Dean, it's just a dream," I said, running my fingers through his hair.

He tried his hardest to roll away from my touch, swallowing hard before he spoke. "Won't tell you."

"Dean, wake up!" I yelled, knowing that the longer he stayed in his dreams, the more harm he'd to do himself.

Tears fell from his closed eyes. "Not an angel," he whispered. "Can't tell… about network."

"Dean Winchester, you wake up now!"

His eyes shot open, frightened and confused. "No, you're a dream," Dean said, scared out of his wits.

He struggled to get away from me; unable to do so from all the pain he was in. I grabbed his forearms as gently as I could with his injuries, forcing him to look at me. "Dean, you're safe. I promise."

"They got you too. I didn't tell them anything, I promise," he said. "Just let me go." His breath caught in his throat. "I can't. Just let me die. Please."

"No way, Dean."

"Please, Bobby. Just make them stop," he pleaded with me.

Jesus Christ, what did they do to him? He never begged for anything. "They're not here, Dean. They can't hurt you."

"I can't…"

Did he really want to die? "Look at me, you gotta snap out now!" I yelled. I gave him a firm shake to try and emphasize the seriousness of my words. "You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a son to me."

In his eyes, it looked as if something switched on in his head and he finally recognized who I was and that I wasn't going anywhere. "Bobby?" he cried, tears blurring his vision. He blinked and the tears trailed down his cheeks. "You're real," he whispered.

"Of course I'm real, you idjit. Will you be all right if I let you go?" He nodded his head. "Good."

I let go of his arms and he took in a breath as if for the passed few minutes he hadn't been breathing at all. "Where? What?"

I walked out of the room, ignoring his questions, and returned with a glass of water in hand. After I got him sitting up, I tipped the glass to lips and let him drink. "You well enough for some pain killers?"

"I was wondering when you were going to spoil me," he joked, the vulnerable Dean from a minute ago, gone. He swallowed the pills without much difficulty. "My best friends," he smiled after he drank down a glass of water.

He closed his eyes and went back into a lying position. "Dean? What did you mean about the network?"

He peaked open his eyes to look at me. "What? When did I say that?"

"Fever dreams."

"The hunter network. The demons wanted to tap into it."

"And you wouldn't let them?"

"And give them the chance to hurt you, my dad, Caleb, Pastor Jim…Sammy." He paused to catch his breath. "He must be so worried. I have to…" his voice softened as he tried to sit up.

"No way, kid," I said, pushing him back down. "You're resting."

"Dad must be so pissed."

"I wouldn't doubt it. I'm pretty damn sure he's pissed."

"I should call him."

"No. Because he'll be here eventually. And I know that if he comes here sooner than you're able to handle him, you're going to be spending more time in that bed than you'd like."

"You wouldn't."

"Anything to keep you safe and get you well." Even if it meant protecting him from his own father. Speaking of his father, I needed to know. "Dean, why didn't you go to your father when you got out?"

"I couldn't find him, but I didn't look very hard. And I couldn't lead them to dad. I just couldn't risk it."

The kid needed to protect his family. He looked away as if I was supposed to be disappointed in the choice he made. "I understand, Dean. So, right now, you get to go to sleep."

"I've been sleeping all night. I'm not tired," he yawned. "Did you drug me?" he glared accusingly at me.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you, Dean?"

"You've done it before."

"You needed it before. And you might actually need it now."

"So, you did?"

"No, that's your body telling you that you need to recuperate. So, you're going to sleep and recuperate."

"Overbearing, bossy, little—"

"What did you say?" I interrupted his rant. He bit his lip to stay quiet. "That's what I thought."

He yawned once more before allowed his eyes to close. "Thanks, Bobby," he said.

I turned to leave the room once again. But before I could make it out the door, a question kept nagging me in the back of my mind. "Dean?" I asked, looking back at him and hoping he wasn't asleep yet.

"Yeah."

"What did you mean when you said 'not and angel.'"

"Oh," he said. His eyes popped open. He was doing he best to fight against the exhaustion. "The demons. They cut my back searching for wings thinking that I was an angel or something. And they were saying something about my heart. I don't really know for sure. I was too busy keeping myself from passing out. Funny though, right? Me an angel."

"Yeah, really funny. Now get some sleep."

I picked up the supplies in the doorway and walked out of his room not knowing if he went to sleep or not. But he knew better than to defy me in my own house. And even if he didn't fall asleep on his own will, his exhaustion and a little help from a sedative would do it for him.

So I lied to him. I'm allowed to do whatever I damn well please in my home.

I went to my study about one hundred percent sure that I wouldn't be able to go to sleep no matter how tired I was. I had a lot more questions than answers since he'd woken up. And that didn't help me at all. So I opened a book to search for some answers.

So, football players. That meant that this had to be where the boys were at school this week, or month. Or, maybe Dean happened to come across a bunch of guys playing football and they recognized him as a hunter? That detail was leading me nowhere. Maybe next detail.

The number of demons. There were seven of them. That meant they knew that Dean was there and were following him. But if that were the case, then why wasn't John able to sense it?

So many missing details.

And Dean as an angel? And what about his heart?

What the hell did all of it mean? And what did Dean have to do with any of this?

If my guess or assumption is right, then he's everything to do with it. This kid means more to this fight than anyone could possibly know.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that didn't hear a car pull up to my house. And even worse, I didn't hear someone enter it. "Bobby?" someone said.

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of someone else in my house. I looked up from the book that I wasn't even reading to the person standing in front of me. I thanked God that it wasn't a demon. "Caleb?" I said once my heart stopped racing.

It wasn't a surprise that he was at my house. It was only a matter of time. He would drop everything he was doing if he found out that Dean was hurt. If he had gotten the same phone call from John that me and Jim got, then the urgency siren in his brain would be blaring until he knew Dean was safe. I was actually surprised he wasn't here sooner.

"I saw the Impala outside. Is John here?" he asked, anxious.

"No," I replied.

"Blaze?"

Blaze. A nickname that he gave the middle Winchester because as soon as Dean got into hunting, he would go into any situation, guns blazing. Dean did have the tendency to go in without a plan and with a shoot first ask questions later mentality. Blaze was a perfect nickname to give him. Granted, the nickname was always paired with the nickname, Brains, that Caleb gave to the youngest Winchester boy.

"Yeah. He's pretty beat up, Caleb."

"Let me see him," he requested.

I had half a mind to keep him away from Dean. I knew what it would do to Caleb to see one of his best friends injured. Actually, not just a friend, someone he considered family. The last thing that I needed was for my house to be torn to shreds, unless I was the one doing it.

But I knew how much worse it would have been if I tried to keep him away. "He's in his room."

I sat in my study waiting and attempting to read the book in front of me, but the words didn't seem to form correctly. I was too distracted, thinking about all the possible reactions that Caleb could be going through. Anger and retribution were pretty high on that list. I knew how close Caleb was to Dean and I didn't want to hear his reaction when he saw one of his family members severely injured, so I tried to find other ways of distracting my thoughts.

The door to Dean's room slammed closed and I knew that Caleb was pissed. Not only by that, but also because of the stomping that was coming toward my direction. "Who did that to him?" he demanded. "Bobby, tell me who did this to Dean so I can find him and kill that son of a bitch."

"You better get in line." I had claims on going after the demons. Dean came to me first and I had to fix him up, so if anyone were going to send the bastards back to hell, it would be me. Even John Winchester would have to take a backseat.

"So, who did this to him?"

I ran my hand down my face and beard wondering if I should tell him. "I don't know." And that was the truth. All that Dean told me was seven football players.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know? And where the hell is John?" he yelled.

I understood his anger. John should've been here helping his son through this. "I haven't heard from him since I got that phone call from him saying that Dean was missing."

"Me neither," he said, his demeanor a lot calmer than it was a few seconds ago. "He was pissed."

"He was scared. And for good reason. You saw Dean in there."

Caleb sat in one of my empty chairs, hunched over and rested his face in his hands. "I want to know who did this, Bobby."

"So do I, but he isn't telling me anything. He's too weak right now. We have to wait for him to wake up."

He leaned back on the chair and stared at the Key of Solomon on my ceiling. "It's weird you know. Hearing you calling Dean weak." As weird it was for him to hear it, it was weirder and harder for me to say it. "It's hard to believe that it's Blaze lying in that bed in there. Did you slip him anything?"

"Of course I did."

"Good. Have you called John?"

"What do you think?"

"He's going to be pissed when he finds Dean here."

"I'm not scared of John Winchester."

"You're in the minority here." Which was true. John Winchester had a reputation in the hunting community of being a total hardass, a vengeful badass, a complete jackass, and an overall pain in the ass. "So, did Blaze tell you anything?"

"He said that he was outnumbered." That is a fact I feel obligated to share.

"What exactly is outnumbered?"

"Seven to one. Whoever they were, they were possessed."

"How the hell did he get away from seven demons? And with all those injuries?"

"Honestly, the only thing that I can think of is that he's a Winchester." He laughed at my statement, but he knew how much validity that it held. "So, what took you so long? I thought that you would've been here as soon as you heard that Dean was missing."

"I was in the mountains. I didn't have reception the day that he called me, so when I called John back, Dean was missing for four days. I was torn between finishing my hunt and searching for him, but I'm pretty sure that Dean would've wanted me to finish my hunt. So I did. And as soon as I did, I booked it down here to get information." He stood up from the chair and paced in front of me. "Seven demons. That is one special kid in there," he said proudly.

"You have no idea."

"So, what do we do now?"

"We wait," I replied.

Caleb groaned and plopped back onto his chair. "I was hoping you weren't going to say that."

**Hey everyone! Here is the second chapter of my story. Thanks so much to everyone for the reviews. You guys are amazing. I have a question for everyone… Does anyone know Caleb's last name? I might need it for a future story I'm writing. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own the idea behind the story and characters that you've never heard of before.**

_Italic is flashback _

There had been less than a dozen times that Dean has appeared vulnerable in my presence. And I remember every single one of them. It didn't happen often, so when it did, it was always committed to my memory.

The first time was when I first met the Winchester family. Dean had just lost his mother and was one of the most inanimate five year olds I'd seen in my life. He didn't talk much. Only when responding to orders given by his father. And even those were never more than five words at a time.

But he broke out of his shell in time. A lot of time. Months. Not that anyone was going to rush the kid. He spoke, but not as much as a normal five year old. But then again, when had anything in the kid's life ever been normal.

He met Caleb shortly after. Then the unspoken kid became one of the smartest mouths I'd ever heard.

Another time was when he was twelve when Sam and his father had gotten into an accident. Dean was terrified, but also guilt-ridden that he wasn't able to keep them safe and because he wasn't in the car with him. He was sick that day, so he stayed at home while John took Sam to school. Then a driver collided with the back of the car, spinning it into oncoming traffic. John and Sam were in the hospital for about a week, and Dean worried about them every day. They were his entire life and to see them lying there motionless and unable to do a thing about it was killing him. He didn't eat or sleep until he knew that his family was all right.

Caleb helped Dean through it, making sure the kid didn't kill himself. The only thing that worked for the first few days was some sedatives. That was the first times that I'd seen Caleb scared and it didn't have to do with anything supernatural.

The most recent time was two years ago. And it was the hardest one to watch.

_John, Caleb and Dean were on a hunt. Sam was left in my care for that weekend while they were gone. What they were hunting seemed so trivial compared to what it did to Dean. The three of them came barreling into my house on a Tuesday night, bloodied, and bruised. Dean was supporting Caleb's weight, but he didn't look to well off himself. _

_He put Caleb down next to his father on the couch and I walked over to check on them. Dean stayed standing and turned to walk toward his own room. "Dean, sit," I said._

_He did so without a word, which should've been the first sign that something was wrong. I attributed it to being tired from the hunt, and I left it at that until I got to inspect him further. Caleb was the most injured so I wrapped his ankle that he sprained and cleaned all of his wounds. John's injures weren't that bad either. Nothing a few painkillers couldn't fix. The two were patched up and went to their rooms to clean up._

_Dean was another story. I looked at him, breathing completely calm, just sitting and waiting. "Dean, where are you injured?" I asked. _

_His demeanor was telling me that there was nothing wrong with him, but I knew better. He was already that good at pushing pain aside and hiding his injuries at that age. History told me that I was going to have to search for the injuries before he showed them to me himself._

_History didn't repeat itself that day. He slid off his jacket and lifted up his shirt without protest. Three long gashes ran from his chest down to wrap around his back. He should've been in a lot more pain than he was showing. That should've been sign two. I grabbed his chin and tipped it to be able to see his eyes. _

_They never were able to hide his true feelings. _

_This time was no exception. Staring back at me was the broken five-year-old and trapped in a fifteen year old body. His eyes screamed 'Help me!' but no one else saw it but me. His eyes were pleading with me, and they were showing how much pain he really was in. And it was more than just physical. I was one of the few that he allowed himself to be vulnerable around. "It's okay, Dean," I whispered. I didn't know what happened to him to make him that way, but I was going to fix it._

_I helped him stand from the couch, his body already stiff. I led him to his room, and laid him down. As soon as I did, a single tear fell from is eye. He laid there, frozen. Not even moving to wipe it away. He was locking himself in. "Go to sleep, Dean. I have to stitch you up. I'll be right back." He nodded mutely. I watched him close his eyes and sat with him for a few minutes until I knew he was resting._

_I stomped out of Dean's room and saw Caleb and John sitting on the couch, cleaner than they were minutes ago. Sam was sitting next to his father with a book in his hand trying to do some homework. "Sammy, go and grab the meds in upstairs bathroom." Sam nodded, knowing that it was something I wanted him to do because there was going to be some yelling going on, and ran upstairs. "What the hell happened tonight, John?" I yelled as soon as the young one was out of earshot._

"_What do you mean?" he asked, completely oblivious to what I was saying. But what else was new._

"_Your son is breaking in there and I want to know what the hell went on so I can fix it."_

"_Fix what?" John asked._

"_What's wrong with Blaze?"_

"_He's hurting. But it isn't just physical pain. There is something broken inside of him and I want to know what it is."_

_Caleb ran his hands up and down his face and groaned. "He didn't save him," Caleb whispered. "That's what happened, Bobby. He didn't save him."_

"_Who didn't he save?"_

"_A kid. He was just a kid. Younger than Sammy, but still. Dean watched the kid get thrown into a tree. When we got to him, we were too late. The kid didn't stand a chance. Dean sat there for minutes with the kid in his arms, not saying a word. I thought that he was praying for the kid. We called for help, and had to leave before they came, against his will. I guess that he had it somewhere in his head that he was the kid's watcher. It's his first loss like this. He must be devastated."_

_That made all the sense in the world. Dean always made it personal when kids were involved in hunts. In my head, I theorized that every time a kid was involved, he thought of his brother. So now, the thought of losing Sam, as metaphoric as it was, must have been crushing._

_Sam came running down the stairs with three bottles of pills in his hands. "Headaches, muscle pains, and mild sedative pills."_

"_Thanks, Sam," I said._

"_Bobby, is Dean going to be okay?"_

_I knew that the question was going to get asked eventually. Sam and Dean shared a connection that no one could understand, and with that connection he was able to know something was wrong with his brother as soon as Dean stepped into the room. "Yeah. He's just tired, that's all." It wasn't a complete lie. He really was sleeping._

"_Can I go see him?" he asked, knowing that he could provide his brother some form of comfort. _

"_Later on, buddy," John answered. "Why don't you and I go upstairs and finish your homework together. Maybe by then, Dean will be awake."_

_Sam and John slowly walked up the stairs to the study while I made my way back to Dean's room. "You need any help?" Caleb asked._

"_Yeah." I walked toward Dean's room after gathering a few supplies and Caleb limped after me. _

It took Dean almost a month to get back to his normal self. It brought me back to when I first met the middle Winchester. He was so locked in himself and traumatized by the experience that he didn't talk for almost four weeks. Not even to Sam, who wanted to do anything and everything to help his brother heal.

But Sam helped him heal without having to say a word. In the middle of every night, he'd sneak into Dean's room and just lie on his lap. His brother would then just stroke his hair, like he used to do when they were younger, until they both fell asleep. And every morning, either Caleb or me would find them like that, Dean with his hand protectively on Sam, with trails of dried tears streaked down his cheeks, and Sam relaxing under the protection of his brother. Then he'd wake up and navigate through his day. And he did navigate because he just existed for that month.

John and I kept Dean under a microscope for that month, trying to find a way to break him out of himself. Caleb was there the entire month too, refusing to go on a hunt until he knew that Dean was all right. He would've waited years for him if he needed to.

We all were willing to do the same.

When his father walked into Dean's room followed by the three of us on the twenty-seventh day, he fell into his father's arms and began apologizing over and over again about not being able to protect his little brother in a low monotone voice.

Caleb and I left the Winchester family to their business. When they walked out of the room, Dean had a little spark in his eyes again. Not the same fighting fire, but it would grow to that again.

"What are you thinking about?" I heard and fell back into the present time.

I looked up and saw Caleb standing in front of me. I must have been gaping like an idjit. "Every time I've seen that boy's mask crumble away," I replied.

"Any time in particular," he asked. As much as Dean tried to hide it from the man he looked at as an older brother, Caleb saw Dean's emotions almost as often as I did. He was able to help Dean out when he was out of my reach.

"Two years ago."

"Oh." He knew. A quiet spell fell over the living room. They never lasted long, both of us unable to take it. "You don't know how happy I was to actually hear his voice after that month."

"Me too."

"It wasn't right for him to be not talking. But I understood what he was going through. I mean, Blaze would take on the pain of the universe if he could. Not that John hasn't already put the weight of the world on his shoulders," he said. Caleb may have said that about John, but he admired and respected the eldest Winchester. He just didn't approve of the amount of pressure he put on Dean. None of us approved. But Dean carried it, not knowing why. He just did.

The sound of Dean's door creaking open interrupted our conversation. "I thought that you slammed the door shut."

"I didn't mean to," Caleb said.

I grabbed Holy Water and a shotgun at my desk while Caleb grabbed his gun and pulled a knife out of his boot. When we got to the door, we saw Dean standing, or more like leaning, against the doorway. He looked as if he was about to pass out on the floor. I set down the shotgun and Holy Water. I had to be ready to catch him if he did pass out. "Bobby?" he asked.

I was about to answer, but was interrupted by the other person in the house. He had relieved himself of his weapons too. "What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Caleb yelled.

"Caleb?" Dean asked, not sure if he heard the voice. He saw Caleb standing behind me, fuming. The three of us remained standing in the room, waiting for someone to make the first move.

**Damn, I'm just posting these chapters like crazy, aren't I? I just really want to get this out before my other story and before the new episodes come out. And because I've been getting so many amazing reviews. I honestly did not expect you guys to enjoy this story so much. And also, thanks for all the help with Caleb's last name. I decided to go with Harrison. My reasoning? I got a look at the original script of the pilot episode and saw that the Winchesters were actually supposed to be the Harrisons. Weird, right? I apologize for this chapter being so short. Hope that this turned out all right. Well, thanks to everyone for reading. Please review. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own the idea behind the story and characters you've never heard of before.**

If looks could kill, then the look that Caleb gave Dean now would've put him six feet under five minutes ago. "Get your ass back in that bed!" he yelled.

"Caleb?" Dean repeated, totally confused that his friend was actually in the room.

"Yes, Dean," I said. "It's Caleb. Now, what are you doing out of bed?" I wanted to know why he was standing, but I knew how to go about it in other ways besides yelling.

"Bathroom."

"Let us help you," I said making a move to go over and help him.

He tried to move away from me and Caleb, but found himself frozen. "I'm not five years old anymore."

"I don't give a damn, Dean," I replied. "We're helping you."

He sighed, his resolve crumbling and giving into my rationalization. But he held the defiance in his eyes.

We helped him to the bathroom, let him relieve himself, and then helped him back to his bed. When he was sitting comfortably on the bed he smiled. "Couldn't stand to be away, couldn't you Caleb?"

At least the boy was well enough to be joking around with Caleb. But then again, Caleb always had a way of pulling Dean out of whatever trouble he was in. "I needed to make sure that you're ass was still alive. You still owe me sixty bucks."

Dean let out a short laugh. "Thanks for coming, Caleb," Dean whispered with much appreciation.

He smiled at the younger hunter. "Don't even worry about it, Blaze," Caleb said, giving Dean the reassurance only he could give.

"You think you well enough to get something in your stomach?" I asked.

"It depends," Dean started. "Are you going to lace that with something too?" He glared at me.

"Like it even mattered, Blaze, because from what I can see, you're awake right now."

"Probably only because he cut the dosage," he complained. "And I think that an exploding bladder trumps sedatives any day." Caleb and I let out a short laugh. "So, what do I get to eat?"

I looked over him a few times. "Soup," I replied. "You're too thin."

"It's not my fault," he complained.

"Well, you're eating soup. Start you off small." The treatment was the best at the moment. His body probably wasn't able to handle solid foods yet.

"Sounds delicious," Dean replied. Caleb took the opportunity and sat in the chair that was at Dean's bedside.

I left the room to make the soup and when I returned, soup in hand, I was met with the same Caleb death glare that Dean was on the receiving end of a few minutes ago. "Bobby," Caleb growled.

I put the soup down on the nightstand next to his bed. "What?" Usually I had an idea of what I did to deserve any form of anger coming in my direction. This time, I had none. My eyes darted back and forth between Dean and Caleb.

"I swear, Bobby. I didn't know. I thought you told him."

"How could you not tell me that they cut Blaze up! And what the hell do they want with his heart? How could you keep any of this from me? Did you think I wasn't going to find out? All you told me was that he was outnumbered. Are you friggin' kidding me?"

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Dean apologized again. "I thought that you would've told him."

"Don't worry about it, Dean. Just get some food in you," I replied. Dean took the bowl from the nightstand and started sipping from it. I turned my attention back to Caleb's verbal attack. "I was going to tell you, but not without all the facts straight."

He stood up and kicked the chair away from Dean's bedside. "That's why I'm here, Bobby!" Caleb protested. "To help. I can't do that if you leave things out."

"I'm not leaving anything out!" I yelled, my frustration and exhaustion getting the better of me. But I did understand Caleb's frustration. I also wanted to know all the information, but other than asking the demons themselves, we weren't going to get anything. "I don't know any more than what the kid is telling me."

"The kid sitting right here," Dean said.

"Eat your soup," we yelled at him. Immediately, I felt guilty, and I'm pretty sure that Caleb felt it too. There wasn't a real reason why we yelled at Dean, but we were both frustrated and in a yelling fit that it was hard to turn it off just to reply to him.

Lucky for us, he understood. But that didn't stop us from continuing our fight. "You should've told me whatever you knew, Bobby."

"I didn't know anything, therefore I didn't tell you anything. So, quit yelling at me."

"I can yell all I want when it comes to Blaze!"

"You're not the only person who cares about him!"

Dean slowly sipped his soup as he watched us argue. It must've been quite entertaining to him. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, making sure he was trying to eat. He finished most of the bowl before he put it back on the nightstand. I would've tended to him if I weren't so occupied with the assault I was receiving from Caleb. "I can't help you if I don't know what's going on! I need to know what's going on!"

"You're not the only person in the dark here. Everyone in this room is. I understand that you want to get whoever did this to Dean, but you need to calm down."

I saw him pick up the bowl and take one more sip from it. Dean quickly brought his knees to his chest, resting his head on them and groaned. That halted the argument as soon as Dean looked like he was in pain. "Dean?" we asked.

"Trashcan," he said weakly.

Caleb was out of the room as soon as the words left his mouth. I took the bowl from his hands and set it aside. I took a seat on the bed next to him trying to keep his head between his knees. "Breathe, Dean."

"Trying," he forced out. "You poisoned me."

God, I loved the kid for his good timing. He always knew how to joke to make me feel better even if he was miserable. "Didn't do a good job," I joked back. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

"For now."

Caleb ran back in with a trashcan in hand and put it right in front of Dean. His timing couldn't have been more perfect because Dean vomited into the can as soon as it was in his sight. "Easy, easy," I whispered over and over, rubbing circles in his back.

"Just breathe, Blaze," Caleb coached.

His entire body was covered in a sheet of sweat, and even though he tried to hide it, he was shaking. "Good boy, Dean," I whispered.

"What did you put in the soup?" Caleb asked me.

"Shut up." Dean let out a laugh. "Dean, when was the last time you ate?" He held up four fingers than shook his hand to say more or less. My guess was that it was more. "Perfect."

"What?" Dean and Caleb asked.

"Didn't realize how long you've gone without food."

"You didn't know." The kid was blameless.

I walked back into the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water. I put more of the sedative in one of them and went back into Dean's room. Caleb had taken the trashcan out of his arms and put it in the furthest corner. I handed Dean one of the glasses. "Wash," I said. He sloshed the water in his mouth and Caleb brought the trashcan back for him to spit.

I handed him the other glass and waited for him to drink it. "Drugged?"

"Yes," I replied. It was no sense trying to lie to him and use the same trick twice in a day.

He put the glass on the nightstand. "I'm not thirsty."

"The hell you aren't," I replied. "You're drinking that water."

"No."

"Dean, just drink the water," Caleb said.

"Traitor."

"You either drink it willingly, or I'm going to force it down your throat," he threatened.

"I want to see you try," Dean challenged.

Caleb walked over to the nightstand and took the cup of water. He stood over the prone Winchester with the cup in hand. "Open up."

Dean stared at him with eyes full of betrayal. "Caleb?"

"You need to sleep, Blaze," he replied. His voice soft. "I'm perverse and resolute when it comes to keeping you safe." He held the cup out to Dean. "You should know that by now." Dean stared at the cup in front of him. "You know I'm just trying to help."

Dean took the cup and drank from it. He laid back down, knowing full well that he didn't have the energy to fight off another sedation attempt. And even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to take on me or Caleb. "Tell me how you're feeling, Dean," I asked.

"Tired."

"Anywhere hurting?"

He shook his head from side to side. "Not now."

I stroked his hair, helping to ease him into sleep. He moaned as he fell deeper into relaxation. "You still with me, Dean?" I asked.

"Barely," he whispered.

"Just go to sleep, son. I'm going to check your bandages and injuries when you're out."

When his breathing evened out, I stood up from his side. I was so absorbed with getting Dean to sleep that I didn't realize Caleb wasn't in the room until I turned around. And along with him, out of the room was the trashcan that he brought in.

In the quiet of the room, I gingerly rolled Dean onto his side to make sure that wounds on his back were healing the way I wanted them to. There were only specks of blood, which was a good thing in my book. I pushed on his ribs, receiving the same reactions when I pushed in the places that were bruised and broken. The vomiting didn't seem to jostle anything since he still hadn't coughed up blood. That meant there were no internal injuries, which I was grateful for.

In the end, all of the bandages were still in place and didn't need any new medication. I put him under all of the blankets in the room, hoping that it would break his fever. That was the most critical thing I felt I needed to worry about.

I left Dean's room and saw Caleb sitting in the study looking through some books. "Is he asleep?" he asked, not looking up from what he was reading.

"Yeah. He won't be waking up from that amount of sedative any time soon. Especially on an empty stomach."

"That's good," Caleb replied. He kept is eyes down, and I thought that the conversation was over. "You really care about that kid, don't you?"

"And you don't."

"I see the way you look at him, Bobby. You care about him a lot. More than just another hunter's kid. And you have this power over him that he listens to you without giving you any lip. Which is amazing."

"He just knows how to show respect to his elders," I defended. Sure, I cared for Dean, more than I cared to express, but I didn't want anyone else knowing that. What I felt about the kid was my business. But apparently I've been more transparent than I thought I was. I just counted my blessings that no one heard what I had yelled to Dean last night.

_Look at me, you gotta snap out now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a son to me._

I actually told him that he was like a son to me. And he was.

Caleb slapped the book he was reading closed, bringing me out of my short flashback. "Right," he replied. "You just keep thinking that."

"He's a good kid, Caleb."

"You don't have to tell me that," he retorted. "I know how good he is. He's jumped in front of bullets, werewolves, demons, for me. You name it and he's probably saved me from it or will save me from it in the future. There's no end to the size of his heart."

I sighed, knowing how true that statement was. Dean had a heart the size of Jupiter. He cared for everyone that he came into contact with. It was an admirable quality. But then again, there wasn't much about the kid that I didn't admire.

Maybe that's what the demons were talking about when they were talking about his heart.

But why is his heart so important?

There had to be some reason for seven demons to come directly for him. I'd never heard about that before today. But I had to smile at the thought of how pissed off they must be to know that the seven of them couldn't take down a seventeen year old. At least Dean knew how to make life interesting.

"You think that they're coming after him, don't you?" Caleb asked, as if he could read my mind.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" I replied. "Seven demons just going straight for him."

"And you want to know why."

"Yeah."

"He's a Winchester. That's a special family right there."

"But I hate to see the kid caught up in his father's fight."

"Well, why isn't it his fight too? He loved his mother, didn't he?"

"I'm not saying that he didn't. But name five times that you've seen Dean actually act his age. He's so busy keeping his dad from going on suicide missions and keeping his brother's innocence in tact. And then he has to go and play peacemaker between the two of them when they're about to tear each other's heads off."

"They tear him apart," Caleb whispered. "And they don't even realize it sometimes. I don't know how he does it sometimes."

I knew how he did it all the time. "It's because he remembers that it isn't about him."

"That's—" he stopped talking and shot his head up like a dog who just heard a high-pitched whistle.

"What?"

"Please tell me that you hear that."

I strained to hear what he just did. Then I heard it. The roar of the '86 Sierra Grande coming closer and closer to my house. "Brace yourself," I said and Caleb nodded in reply. It was definitely about to hit the fan.

**All right, here is the next chapter. Just to warn you, it might be the last chapter for about two or three weeks. Finals are coming up and I have to get to studying. I might try to sneak one in next week, but I can't really promise anything. I hope that this turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea behind this story.**

I looked around my house, checking where every one of my weapons were positioned. I knew that I had to protect Dean from anyone and anything that could harm him in his fragile state. Not that I'd actually shoot John, even though there were times I'd like to. "Should I get my shotgun?" Caleb joked, trying to make light of the conversation.

"Sure," I replied. "Just make sure you let him talk before you blow him away, will you?"

Then we heard the truck door slam. I heard my front door get pounded on but didn't move from my position. Moving would've been a waste of time because he barged into my house a second later. "Bobby!" he yelled.

"Hey there, John," I replied, not fazed by his rage.

"Bobby, where is he?" he continued his rampage.

"Who?" I asked, even though I knew who he was talking about.

"I saw the Impala outside. Where is my son hiding?"

"Hiding?" Caleb asked. I silently berated Caleb for wanting to pick a fight with John after only being in my house for a minute. "Why the hell would your son be hiding from you?"

"Is he in his room?" Before I could even answer him, he barreled into Dean's room. I wasn't surprised when Dean didn't move from his position on the bed. He never was a light sleeper, so the sedative was doing its job. But John wanted answers and would do anything to get them, so I was concerned. "Dean, wake up."

"John, let him sleep."

"No," he said adamantly. "Dean, get up. That's an order."

Those three words were like Dean's personal alarm clock. He could be in a coma and if he heard those words, he'd wake up from it. His eyes slowly opened and he struggled to turn his head to the sound of his father's voice. "Dad?" he whispered.

Damn. And just when I had gotten him back to sleep. "Get up, we need to get a move on."

"John, leave him alone," I replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"Are you blind?" I asked. "Look at your son. Look at him, John."

"I am looking at him."

"Dean? Can you move?" I asked.

"I can try," he whispered.

"Show him the battle wounds, Blaze," Caleb replied.

Dean pushed the sheets off of him with much effort. He waited a few seconds to catch his breath before he attempted to sit up. It took a lot of restraint for me to not help him, but we needed to prove a point. John gasped at the sight of his son. "Dean, what the hell happened to you?" he asked. He was angry, and his anger seemed like it was being projected toward Dean. But we all knew better.

"John," I said.

"Dean," he pressed.

"Dean, don't answer him. He doesn't know, John," I answered. "He was jumped by some demons. They outnumbered him and kept him for a week torturing him for who knows what kind of information."

"Dean, is this true?"

He kept his eyes on the ground, unable to meet the gaze of any of us. "Yes, sir."

"Dean, lie down. Go back to sleep," I said.

"But dad said—"

"I don't care," I interrupted. "My house, my rules. Go back to sleep."

I walked to the bed and helped him lie back down. John walked out of the room followed by Caleb. I made sure that Dean was still asleep then followed after them. I saw John standing in the middle of my study and it took everything in me not to punch the eldest Winchester in his face for his stupidity.

Lucky for me, Caleb was never one to show restraint when he was angry. And nothing could stop him when he was angry and it was about Dean. "You stupid son of a bitch," he yelled as he punched John where I had just thought about punching him.

And so it began. "What the hell is your problem, Caleb?" John asked, rubbing his cheek that smarted.

"Your son is a friggin' mummy in there and you don't even care!" Caleb yelled.

"Of course I care. I just didn't know," John replied.

"Of course you didn't know. I should beat your ass for your stupidity."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Don't friggin' tempt me, Winchester."

Caleb stepped toward John ready to take this fight further than just a verbal bout. I took that as a sign to step in between them. Dean wouldn't have wanted his family getting into a fight about him. "Cut it out," I said. "None of this is helping Dean." And I thought that would've gotten to them.

"Tell that to the father of the year," the younger hunter hissed. I guess not.

"Caleb, back off," I answered in the same tone.

"Pompous son of a bitch," he said walking away under his breath. We really liked talking that way to each other in our circle of hunters.

"What did you say?" John said, stepping around me toward Caleb.

"You heard me," Caleb answered. He turned around to face him. "You're lucky that I care for Blaze more than I despise you right now because you'd be staring at the ceiling. But he needs his father. Be his father."

"Don't you think I'm trying?" John asked. His arrogance and his resolve done fighting.

"What the hell took you so long to get your ass here?" Caleb replied in the same resigned tone.

"I was planning a mass exorcism. And it wasn't like I knew that my son was here injured. I didn't get a phone call." He sent a glare in my direction.

"A mass exorcism?" I asked, ignoring the accusing tone. We could always argue about me not informing John about his son later.

"Apparently, there are half a dozen demons possessing members of the football team at the school Dean is attending."

"Did you get them?" Caleb asked, his voice full of concentration.

"No. I've just been scouting the place trying to figure out a way to do it. I came up here to see if you had any ideas. I was thinking that those demons knew a way for me to find Dean. But since I know where Dean is, I can just go straight for the exorcism."

"I'm coming with you," Caleb said.

"Me too," I replied.

"What?" he asked, completely confused. "Why?"

I contemplated telling John about what Dean told us. The connections made sense. They had to be the same demons. "Those demons are the ones that did this to your son," I said.

"Those seven demons hurt Blaze."

"What!" John yelled. It was as if someone turned on the fire in his eyes, because John's eyes were down right scary. Even I knew when not to get in the path of this wrath. This was without a doubt one of those moments.

If anyone had doubts that John Winchester cared for his sons, the anger and vengeance in his voice dispelled all of it. He never always showed how much he cared for his boys, Dean especially, but if any of his boys were in danger, he'd do anything in his power to get them out of it.

"John," Caleb said. He tried to calm the angered Winchester, but he knew that it was futile.

"I have to go."

John turned to walk out the door, but Caleb grabbed his arm to stop him. "Not without us," Caleb replied.

"What are you talking about? You need to stay here and watch my son."

"Exactly, John, _your_ son. Not ours. You stay here and you let us go after the demons."

"No!" he yelled. "Those bastards hurt my son. _Nobody_ gets away with hurting my son."

"Well, he came to me. I want a shot at those demons," I said. "I promised him."

"Well, I'm not babysitting him," Caleb said. "I'm coming to help you."

"We're not leaving him by himself," John replied.

"I can call Jim. He can bring Sammy over," I suggested.

"It might take him awhile," John replied. "Jim was on a hunt."

"So, what do we do?" Caleb asked. "Because I know that all of us want a shot at who did this to Blaze."

We stood in silence contemplating our options. Minutes passed. The tension in the room was unbearable. "We leave him," John said so softly that it sounded like it hurt.

I could tell that John was torn. Hell, I was torn too, and we weren't even talking about my kid. "John, we can wait," I replied.

"No," John answered adamantly. "Dean would want these demons exorcised."

"Okay, that is the hunter talking, now what about the father?"

"The father wants to protect his son."

So, John was ready to defend his son the only way that he knew how. By turning off his emotions, getting the job done, then making sure that his son was back to one hundred percent. "So, we've come to a decision?"

"Yeah."

"You're telling your son what is going on."

"I will."

"We can leave tomorrow or in a few days, just whenever you're ready."

"No, we'll leave tomorrow. I just—"

I knew what John wanted to say. He didn't want to be alone with Dean just yet, because if he were then one of those chick flick moments would occur. And neither Dean or John could handle that with the state that either of them were in. "It's okay, John. I have to check his bandages anyway."

"Thanks, Bobby," John replied.

"I'm still pissed off that you didn't realize you're son was injured until you almost made him walk out of my house. But I understand because you were scared."

"Bobby."

"No, John. You don't have to be such an ass in this house. I'm not going to judge you for caring about your son. And you can't hide that you were terrified when you didn't know where he was."

"We should go check on Dean," John said.

The famous Winchester mask had fallen back into place. I should've known that he would rather change the subject then show what he's feeling. He spun on his heel and headed back toward his son's room. I made eye contact with Caleb and after about two minutes, we both followed John to Dean's room.

When I walked into the room, I saw one of the most beautiful things in my life, besides my late wife. John sat on his son's bed, running his hand through Dean's hair. The last time I saw this happen was when Dean was five years old. It always brought him comfort and would always bring him comfort. That's how I knew what to do to get Dean to fall deeper asleep.

"John," I said, not wanting to break the moment between father and son.

"It's okay, Bobby," John replied. "It's just…" his voice trailed off. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He wouldn't wipe it because that would mean relinquishing contact with his son. "Seven demons, Bobby. He should be dead."

"I know," he replied.

"He's still a kid."

"Hardly," Caleb laughed. "Your kid hasn't been a kid since he was like six years old." When he started shooting bottles with a shotgun in my backyard.

John's eyes didn't leave his son. He was completely occupied with Dean. As much as I wanted to validate that statement, I knew it wasn't what John needed right now. He needed to know that his son was going to be okay, and that the people who did this to him were going to pay. "John, I need to check on his wrappings and then we can head out in the morning."

John sniffed and ran his hand through Dean's hair once more like he was never going to feel this close to his son again. "Yeah," he whispered.

He broke the contact between him and his son, but it looked like it caused him physical pain to do so. He took that chance to wipe the tears from his face. He stood from the bed and watched me as I started to work. I pulled the covers off of the young Winchester and sighed when I saw him shivering. His body was trying to break the fever. I put my hand to his forehead and felt heat radiating off of it. "Help me lift him up, John," I instructed.

John was more than willing to oblige. He sat back down on the bed and when we made eye contact, we lifted the unconscious boy. John let Dean's head rest on his shoulder as I cut off the bandages wrapped around his ribs. I winced as I had to peel the last layer off of the cuts on his back. I cleaned his wound and saw that there was pink around the edges. I huffed and Caleb and John caught it. "What?" they asked.

"They're a bit infected," I said.

Caleb walked around and bit his lip in disgust. "Jesus Christ, Bobby," he said.

I grabbed some ointments to reapply them to his back. As soon as it touched the first wound, a groan escaped the young hunter's lips. "Dean?" John whispered.

"Bobby?" his son replied.

"No, it's dad."

Dean lifted his head from his father's shoulder. "Dad?" John nodded. I backed off as I saw Dean lean back into his father's shoulder. Then I saw his arms wrap around John's torso to hug him. "Dad," Dean repeated. His Winchester mask had fallen. And John wrapped his arms around his son.

**Okay, so finals are over and I'm back home. Thanks to everyone for wishing me good luck, I really think that I helped. Here is the next chapter. Sorry for keeping you guys waiting. I hope that this chapter turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea behind this story.**

The two of them stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, for a few minutes, but to them it could've felt like hours. A week without seeing each other could have done a lot of damage, but it could do some strengthening to a relationship. To the Winchester relationship, it only made them stronger. And as much as I wanted to leave the two alone and let them have a chick flick moment that the two of them dreaded so much, I knew that they both needed me and Caleb there for support.

"Dean," John whispered back.

"Dad."

"Hey, Dean," John said. He lifted Dean off his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here," Dean replied. "Where's Sammy?" Dean looked around apprehensively for his younger brother.

"He's at Pastor Jim's. He'll be here in a few days."

I made a mental note to call Jim before we left. Those two would take care of Dean if we took longer than planned. And Dean always calmed down whenever Sam was around him. I gave John the end of a new bandage that needed to get wrapped around Dean's ribs. "Dean, breathe," I said.

Dean nodded and concentrated on his breathing. He carefully lifted his arms and rested his hands on his father's shoulders. "Dad, I'm sorry," Dean said.

"For what?" John asked.

"Getting nabbed," he whispered, chastising himself.

The three of us froze in place, shocked. The kid sure did have some kind of complex. Did he really just say that he thought that all this was his fault? "Whoa," John started. "This wasn't your fault. From what I've heard, you got away from seven people possessed by demons. That's not an easy thing to do, Dean."

"I shouldn't have gotten caught off guard."

"Blaze, when one demon has a hit out on you, it's hard enough to get away. But seven of them?" Caleb replied, breaking his silence.

"I'm just glad you're alive," John said.

I finished wrapping Dean's chest, tying the end securely. "Dean, breathe," I said.

He inhaled just as he did the first night I wrapped him. "It's good," he replied.

"Dean," John started, "you're squeezing my shoulders so hard that you're cutting off the circulation to them." Dean slowly exhaled, releasing the grip on his father's shoulders. "Dean, now isn't the time to be hiding an injury."

"Just adjusting."

John took his son's arms off of his shoulders and gently pushed him on his back. "Let Bobby check you over, Dean."

Dean looked up at his father, intently as if he were reading something off of him. "Dad, what's wrong?" Dean asked as I probed his ribs. He winced as I pushed on a tender spot. Maybe they weren't broken and just cracked. Dean always was one to push aside his pain if someone else was in it.

John sighed and looked away. It always amazed me as to how easy Dean was able to read his father. And calm him. God bless the kid for being the only person able to pacify John Winchester. He must've gotten it from his mother. That had to be the plausible explanation, because Sam definitely took after John in personality, which lead to their constant butting of heads.

But Dean.

The level-head. He was able to see past revenge and look at the bigger picture. But most of all, he was always able to see past whatever mask any of us put on. Especially his father's. And more importantly because not many knew what went on in John Winchester's head.

"Dean, we're going to have to leave you for a few days," John stated. He looked back at his son an unspoken apology passing between them. "Jim can't get here soon enough, and there are some demons that I want to send back to Hell."

The look in Dean's eyes told me that he made the connection. He knew that we were going after the demons at his school. "I can—"

"No, you're not coming with us," Caleb interrupted. Dean was predictable.

"Us?"

"Bobby and Caleb are coming with me. But I'm contemplating if I should leave you alone."

"Just go. I'll be fine," Dean said.

"Dean," John replied.

"Dad," Dean said to stop his father. "just salt all the windows and doors, and round the bed. I'll only get out of bed to pee. Give me some sedatives and I'll take them. Knock me out for most of the day. Not that I even need them, I'm exhausted."

The three of us stared at the young hunter in awe. "Dean, when the hell did you grow up?" John asked.

"Thirteen years ago," he replied softly. "You three should head out soon."

"Dean."

"Dad. Just get rid of the demons then when you get back, you can stop worrying and tend to me."

I had to laugh at that statement, and so did Caleb and John. "Like you'll let that happen," I replied.

Dean flashed his trademark smile. "No, but I like to let you guys think you can keep me in bed."

"Blaze," Caleb said. He knew that Dean was trying to make it so we didn't have to worry about him, but we couldn't help it.

"Caleb, I'll be fine."

"You know what, I'll stay," I said. "I don't feel right about leaving you alone." I needed to keep Dean safe. That was priority one. But damn, I wanted to get the bastards that did this to him.

He looked at me like he looked at his father when he was trying to see what John was feeling. "Bobby, I'm not five years old anymore. Go. I know you want your revenge."

And he read me like a book. With child's print. "Not at the expense of you relapsing. You haven't even broken your fever yet."

"When was the last time that I—"

"Blaze," Caleb interrupted him again. "Don't even start off a sentence with those words, because the three of us can recall any of the times you try to finish it with." Caleb looked and John and me and we nodded, knowing how true his words were. "The last time you got deathly sick? Four months ago."

"The last time you broke a bone?" John asked. "Ten months ago."

"The last time you relapsed?" I started.

"Eleven weeks ago," the three of us stated.

"We can go on," Caleb said.

"I'd rather you not. I'd rather you just go."

"Trying to get rid of us, are you?" Caleb asked.

"Yes," Dean said.

Dean's way of telling us that he was done arguing and we were going on the hunt. "Okay," John agreed. "One day travel. One to two days to set up the mass exorcism. And one day travel back. That's our timetable."

"Mass exorcism?"

"We're going after the bastards that did this to you," Caleb replied.

"Okay," Dean resigned.

The three of us looked at each other, perplexed. I resisted the urge to walk over to Dean and see if his temperature had climbed because this was way too easy. "Wait, no argument?" Caleb noticed.

"I'm tired, Caleb. It's no sense trying to fight the three of you."

"Dean."

"Dad, go. Those guys, they're good people, for the most part. They're just being used to get to you."

"Me?" John asked.

"Hunters. All hunters. They wanted the network," Dean said.

"So, they came after you?" John said. I caught the hint of guilt in his voice.

"Better than Sammy." He was so protective of his little brother.

"Dean," John said remorsefully.

"Dad. I'm getting really tired of you saying my name like I can't handle what's being thrown at me," he replied, mildly irritated.

"I'm just—"

"Angry that I got caught with my pants down," Dean interrupted. "I know."

"Dean. I'm not angry."

"You can't lie to me, dad."

"Dean," John repeated.

"Dad, I know you better than anyone," Dean said. Which was true. John Winchester was a friggin enigma to everyone besides his family. But out of his sons, Dean knew John better. "You're angry."

"Fine, I'm angry," John exploded. He inhaled before he spoke again. "But not at you," he continued, calmer. "I'm angry at the fact that I didn't catch onto this sooner and that you had to suffer for it. I'm angry that I didn't find you. I'm angry that you didn't come to me as soon as you escaped. But most of all, Dean, I'm terrified. Because I almost lost you."

"Dad," Dean said in the tone his father had been saying his name.

"No, because you want to know the first thing that came to my head when you didn't come home that first night? It was that your mother would be so disappointed in what I did to you. That I brought you into this mess and you were probably hurt because of it. And then I thought about what I would have to tell Sammy if I didn't find you. Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean made it onto his elbows to look at his father. "For what?"

"For dragging you into this life."

"You don't get to apologize."

"Why the hell not?" John asked.

"Because, you're my father," Dean said, as if that fact gave John immunity. "I'm the son. I'm the one supposed to be making all the mistakes." Although he sounded like the father in the conversation.

"Dean," John repeated in the same tone he'd been saying it in for the past few minutes.

"Seriously, dad. You're making me want to change my name," Dean joked. "But honestly, if you need me to say that I forgive you, I won't. Because there is nothing to be forgiven. You are my dad. She was my mom. We both love her. End of story."

"End of story, huh?" John replied with a smile.

"Well, end of explanation," he said and flopped back onto his back.

"Okay," John agreed, done with the chick flick moment that they let occur. "How are you feeling?"

"And don't try to lie to the three of us, Blaze," Caleb threatened, although it held no grounds.

"I feel better than I have been the past few days."

"Smooth, Dean," I replied, him giving us a pretty vague answer.

"What can I say? I try," he said proudly.

"Dean, if you want us to postpone—"

"No," he stated adamantly, interrupting me. "Don't use me stuck in this bed as an excuse. I want you guys to send those demons back to Hell."

"We will, son," I said. "For you."

"No, not for me. For the people possessed."

We all stared somberly at Dean and all made a promise to send the demons back to hell for the people who were possessed, like Dean wanted. But also for him.

Caleb and I left Dean and John in the room. They looked like they needed some alone time before we left for the school.

Caleb walked upstairs, while I walked toward the nearest phone. As soon as I got into my study, I grabbed my phone and dialed a number that was basically programmed into my existence. I waited for someone to pick up. "Hello?" someone answered on the other line.

"Jim, it's Bobby."

"Bobby," Jim answered. "I'm guessing that you came across John."

"Yeah. And I heard that you were on a hunt."

"Yeah, I am. Just trying to find the time to go between this, church, and Sammy here. He's so worried about Dean. And he's angry at his father for ditching him on one hunt and handing him off to another."

"Tell him that Dean's fine."

"You found him?" Jim asked hopefully.

"He came to me," I replied.

And it hit me. Dean actually came to me for once in his life. He trusted me enough to come to me. My God. That made me proud.

"And he's all right?" Jim said, interrupting my thoughts. "You know that boy can hide an injury better than anyone I know."

"He's fine, Jim."

"So, why do you sound like you need a favor?" Jim replied.

Damn that Jim and his ability to sense things like this, even states away. "Is your hunt over?" I asked.

"Not yet. But what is your favor anyway?"

"Caleb, John and me are all going to Dean's high school."

"Why?" he asked.

"There are some demons there that need exorcising," I replied, simple and to the point.

"How many is some?"

I should've known. I never could be vague with that man. And like I'm going to lie to a Pastor, and even more, to a friend. "Seven."

"Do you need my help?" Jim asked, concerned.

"No, I… we need you to come and watch over Dean."

"Why does he need to be watched over?"

"His fever hasn't broken yet. And he's still healing."

"Fever? Healing from what?"

"The seven demons went after Dean to get to us."

"Us?" he asked. "Like us specifically? Was this a personal attack?" I should have chosen my words better.

"No, like us as hunters. They wanted the network. But something in me is telling me that Dean wasn't just some random target."

"He never is," Jim replied.

How true it was. Every time that Dean got hurt, our side got more information for the fight. It was like he had a target on his back. But it didn't help he had a complex that made him want to sacrifice himself for the people he loved. And I can't count how many times that Dean was already taken or attacked to get to us. "I know."

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"Nothing until you finish your hunt."

"Of course," Jim replied. He knew that Dean didn't want any hunt to be abandoned for him. "Of course."

"How is Sammy?" I asked. I wanted to know how the youngest Winchester was doing.

"He's all right. Just mad that his dad left him here to finish his homework. And he's worried about his brother. At least now I can tell him that Dean is all right."

Luckily one of the Winchesters could get some sleep without demon hunting on their mind. Dean had already been hunting for more than half his lifetime at Sam's age, but everyone wanted to protect Sam's innocence. We would've done the same for Dean, but as depressing as it sounded, his innocence was taken along with his mother's life.

"You do that, Jim." I looked up when I heard Dean's door close. John entered the study looking worn down. "Jim, I'm gonna have to go."

"All right, Bobby. You take care of Dean and make sure John and Caleb don't let their revenge blind them. I'll bring Sammy up as soon as I'm done here."

"Sounds good. I'll see you when we get back," I replied and hung up the phone.

Caleb chose that exact moment to trot down the stairs. My eyes darted between Caleb and John waiting for one of them to say something. "Get everything ready," John said. "We leave in the morning."

John walked out of the room and Caleb followed wordlessly. I sat for a few minutes before I made any sort of movement. I've never wanted revenge more in my life than now, but I've never been so anxious about a hunt either. I had a feeling that no matter what happened, everything was going to change.

**Here is the next chapter. Honestly, you guys are amazing readers and reviewers. So, I'm almost finished writing the story. I think there are three to four chapters left in it. I hope that this chapter turned out all right. Thanks to everyone for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own the idea behind this story and the characters that you've never heard of before.**

The trip down took less than half a day. We ended up at the place John and the boys had been living at and stayed there for the night to come up with a course of action.

We could've just gone straight to and snuck into the school to set everything up, but we didn't have anything to set up. We had to come up with a plan. Now, all we could do was wait.

And three of us, waiting for revenge, were the definition of a tense and awkward situation. We sat in the living room waiting for someone to take the lead. I was waiting for John to tell us the plan that he had been thinking of our entire ride here. But he had yet to say a word since he parked his car. "So, what is the game plan?" Caleb asked, taking the initiative of breaking the silence.

Caleb and I both knew that John was thinking of something. We could see it in his eyes. "There is supposed to be a pep rally tomorrow, so we're going to pull it off there," he started. "Well, maybe not at the pep rally. Maybe after their football practice."

I had never heard John Winchester sound so unsure. He wanted to do this right. We all did. When it came to taking care of his kids, we didn't want any mistakes. But that made John tentative. And none of us enjoyed working with a tentative John Winchester. "It doesn't matter _when_ we're doing this, just what are we doing once we find out which football players are possessed," I said.

"Blessing the water supply," John replied. "Salting the locker room, and hiding a Key of Solomon at every entrance."

"And you expect them to just sit back idly as we exorcise them one by one?" Caleb challenged.

"You're not going to be able to keep them all in a Key or in the water. And they won't be powerless. That leaves us outnumbered," I added.

"The PA system," John said. "We can project the prayer through there."

"That involves one of us having to sit and wait in the principle's office," Caleb stated. "I didn't like doing it during school, what makes you think that I'm going to enjoy it now?"

"You're going to do it because it has to do with Dean," John replied.

Caleb crossed his arms across his chest and defiantly plopped onto a chair knowing that John had backed him into a corner. John sure did know how to manipulate us. "I don't know how I feel about that, John," I started. "Putting one of us outside of the fight puts this in the demons' favor. Two against seven isn't exactly safe odds."

"Well, the numbers were worse for Dean," John spat.

"Don't bite my head off, John. I'm here to help you."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just don't want anything to go wrong."

"Nothing will. We'll make sure of it," I replied.

"We leave for the school at midnight," John said. "We'll check out the school and spray paint the Keys at the entrances. We'll bless the water after their practice. And we'll salt whatever windows are in the locker room."

"Sounds like a plan," Caleb said.

"Now, who is going to be the one to sit in the principle's office and wait?" I asked.

"I'll do it," Caleb answered. I thanked Caleb for being the one to volunteer because I sure as hell wasn't going to. "I don't think I will be able to hold back my anger. And Bobby's more efficient at exorcisms than I am."

"Thanks, Caleb," I replied.

"But if I think that you guys are screwed, I'm running out of the office shooting first."

"Wouldn't dream of keeping you out of a fight, Caleb," John replied, rubbing his cheek that Caleb punched the day before.

"Good, because as pleasurable as it was to punch you in the face, I think that you need more than a day to recover before I do it again," Caleb laughed.

"Laugh it up, Harrison," John said. He looked at his wristwatch and saw the time. "We should get some sleep before we head to the school."

I laid on the couch and tipped my hat over my eyes. After a few deep breaths, all I knew was darkness.

I awoke to the sound of someone laughing. I lifted my hat from my eyes when I saw Caleb sitting on the recliner and watching TV. "What time is it?" I groaned as I stretched my tired muscles.

"Twenty-two after eleven."

"Where's John?" He shrugged in reply. I sat up and rubbed my eyes to try and clear my vision. "Winchester!"

"Why are you yelling?" John asked, walking out of his room.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"We're waiting until midnight," Caleb replied. "I thought that was the plan."

"That's the plan." He threw his cell phone onto the coffee table in the middle of the living room and plopped down next to me. "I just got off the phone with Jim. He said that he was probably going to be done with his hunt around the same time we're going to be done with ours."

"Dean can take care of himself," I reassured the worried father. My words didn't do much. "If you're so damn worried, John, just call him."

"No," John said. "Like you said, he can take care of himself."

But what he really meant to say was that if he called Dean and something was wrong, then it would become a distraction. Then nothing would get done.

I couldn't begin to imagine what was going through John's head the week that Dean was missing. Hell, thousands of scenarios raced through my head as soon as I got the phone call. Being a part of this lifestyle made everyone imagine the worse and hope for anything better than that. Hoping for the best was just wishing. But we all knew how far hoping got us.

"Should we start packing the truck?" I asked.

"Already done," Caleb replied. "Getting tired easily in your old age, are you, Singer?"

"Shut your trap, Caleb, before I shut it for you," I threatened. Caleb laughed and walked into the kitchen. I looked to John and saw him standing and staring off into the distance. "John." He didn't give me any reaction, but I didn't expect one on my first try. He had his concentration face on. "John!" I yelled.

"What, Bobby?"

"Stop getting distracted."

"I'm not distracted," he said softly. His watch on his wrist beeped and I looked at mine on my own wrist. Fifteen minutes until midnight. "Get your stuff together."

"It's all ready," I replied.

"Harrison! Hurry it up."

Caleb walked out of the kitchen with a sandwich in hand. "I'm here," he said shoving the rest of it into his mouth. "Let's go." He looked at me and smiled. "Age before beauty."

Instead of saying something back, I decided to just grab my things and head toward the trucks. The other two would follow me anyway. And I didn't want to waste my energy arguing and bantering with Caleb when I had something to do. The two younger hunters made it out and we left as soon as the clock struck midnight.

We got to the school and lucky for us that Dean went to a small enough private school they didn't need security guards. That would've been a nuisance. We got out of the trucks, supplies in hand. "Head west, that's where the locker room is."

"And where the hell are you going?"

"Water supply is that way," John said pointing in the opposite direction. "I'm going to see if there's a way for me to get into it. I'll meet you guys at the locker room when I'm done."

Caleb and I walked to the locker room in an awkward silence. Caleb picked the lock and we went inside. A small private school meant a small locker room. Lucky us. A section for the locker rooms, one for the bathrooms and another for the showers. And it all led to the weight room. "Go get the ladder," I said as I stared at the ceiling.

I walked around, inspecting our scene as I waited for Caleb to return. He came back with a ladder and John in tow. "So, I found a way to get up to the water supply. I figured that I'd bless it during their practice tomorrow."

"They have a loud speaker in every section of this locker room. And two in the weight room," I added.

"I think that I saw the principle's office on the way back here," Caleb said with a shiver. "I hate that place."

"Let's get to it," John said, in his military tone, that none of us ever paid attention to.

Two hours later, we had spray painted two incomplete Keys of Solomon on the ceilings in the locker room, two incomplete ones at the entrances, and salted all of the windows. The plan was for Caleb to salt the door and me and John to complete the Keys as soon as we got all of the demons inside. We cleaned up any trace and left.

We drove back to John's place and attempted to sleep until the after their football practice. But none of us got sleep that night.

Waiting for anything, I've figured out, is the worst thing that any human has to endure. Whether it's a two year old waiting to open presents on Christmas Day, or a bunch of hunters waiting on revenge.

Time mocked us as the day went by.

We sat along with all of the other parents during the pep rally. The cheerleading. The school colors. Homecoming. A great time for teenagers. Such innocence. Well, as much innocence as a teen can have. But here some of them were being inhabited by some demons.

Bastards.

Using innocents to get the network. But they're demons. I didn't expect anything less.

It was a good thing that we decided to go after these demons after the football practice because there were too many people that we'd have to evacuate which meant too many unpredictable variables.

I thanked God as the rally finished. There was only so much pep a hunter could take.

Now all we had to wait for was a two or three hour football practice.

Great. Just what we all needed, more waiting.

John left for a few minutes to bless the water as soon as the boys were on the field. He also took with him a can of spray paint to finish the two Keys that were in the locker room. They had jugs full of water, so we didn't have to deal with them drinking the blessed water and causing a commotion on the field. We watched them practice from the parking lot and tried to figure out who were the boys possessed.

While John was away, I took Caleb's phone and called my house. Just because John was afraid to call his son didn't mean that I was. Not knowing if Dean was all right was more of a distraction to me than knowing. "You better make sure John doesn't know you're calling Dean."

"Shut up," I replied and waited for someone to pick up the phone. "Dean," I said when he answered the phone.

"I'm okay," Dean replied. "Stop worrying about me." I could hear his eyes rolling from where I was sitting.

"Just calling to make sure you're still alive," I replied.

"I don't want to get a call from you guys until the hunt is over."

"Okay," I answered, and I couldn't help but feel like I was getting scolded by my mother. God rest her soul. "So, have you eaten anything?

"Soup," Dean replied.

"Did you keep it down?"

"Yeah. Like I've been eating soup my entire life."

"Good," I said, relieved. "And meds?"

"I'll take a fever reducer before I sleep."

"Do you know which pill to take?" The last thing that I needed to worry about was him taking the wrong pills.

"I can read a bottle, Bobby," Dean groaned.

"How high is it? Your fever."

"Not bad," he said coolly. "Have to sweat it out, right? I'm lying under half a dozen blankets now. It should be broken soon. And before you ask about the injuries, they're healing."

He always could answer my questions before I asked them. He squashed my fears and now I could concentrate on the hunt. If the hunt went according to plan, then we'd be back by tomorrow and I could check on him myself. "How's Rumsfeld?" I asked.

"He's relaxing on the porch. I envy him right now. Your blankets are itchy," Dean said.

"Dean," I cringed when I said his name the way John had said it only two nights ago, when it felt like a lifetime. Dean sighed, hearing my tone. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Bobby, stop worrying. I'm fine. I'm staying out of trouble. I mean, how much trouble can I get at your place. There's salt all over the house, probably some traps that you've set that I don't even know about, I have a knife under my pillow, and a shotgun at my bedside."

"Okay." My house was basically a fortress against demons and Dean had worked a shotgun in worse conditions.

"How's dad?"

"No way, Dean."

"I was becoming a distraction, wasn't I?" Dean asked. And there was Dean's ability to be able to read his father. Maybe the Winchesters were more predictable than we thought.

"A little," I admitted. "But that doesn't matter now. You don't worry about us; we don't worry about you."

"Fine," Dean agreed. "How is the hunt going?"

"That constitutes as worrying."

"There is just no winning with you, is there, Bobby?"

"I thought you would've known that by now."

"I knew," Dean replied. "But it couldn't hurt to try, right?"

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. "All right, I see your father coming back," I said. "I'll call you—"

"When you three are done," Dean interrupted.

"Right. And Dean, get some sleep."

"Eventually," Dean sighed.

"Dean."

"I will, Bobby," Dean conceded. "I will. Hanging up now," and he did just that.

I laughed and handed the phone back to Caleb. "Do you have any idea who could be possessed?" I asked John when he returned.

"No," he replied. "All I got was that there are seven of them."

"And where did you get this information?" Caleb asked.

"Not the time to answer that question."

"We have all the time in the friggin' world, John," the youngest hunter among us said.

"You need to focus," John said harshly. "Don't worry about who I got the information from, just know that it's right."

"That's not good enough, John." And I knew where young Sam was getting his argumentative mouth from. Caleb definitely was an influence on both of those boys. Good and bad.

"Will you two cut it out?" I yelled.

It was not the time for them to start fighting with each other. But I had my own reasons for wanting them to stop their arguing. The longer they went on at each other's throat, the closer it'd come for them to make me choose sides. And I never did.

I always sided with Dean. Those two were always going at it about him, and I came to the conclusion long ago that if I sided with the middle Winchester and what was best for him, then it'd be best for everyone. It also had the added benefit of knocking some sense back into the people arguing. "Sorry, Bobby," Caleb apologized.

"Don't say you're sorry," I said. "Just keep your head in the game."

Caleb sighed a sigh full of impatience. He wanted this job to be over with already. I did, too. "Practice is over," John said. We looked up and saw the boys heading toward the locker room. "Let's go."

We got out of the cars and headed toward the locker room. John took the back entrance while Caleb and me took the front. We needed to finish the Keys. When the last of the football players and coaches entered the room, we moved to the entrance.

"Why can't I move out of here?" one of the players yelled.

One of the Keys worked. One demon trapped, six more to go. I lifted Caleb to the ceiling, and he spray-painted the last symbol in the Key at the entrance. "Once we get all the innocents evacuated, salt the doors. Then wait for the signal," I said once Caleb got his feet back on the ground.

"Be careful," Caleb said. I nodded to him and he stepped outside the locker room.

The showers turned on and screams echoed through the place. It was game time. The possessed bodies hissed as the water hit them. "No!" the demon trapped in the Key yelled.

"This is an evacuation!" I yelled. "Get your ass out of here if you can."

"Who the hell are you?" one of the coaches asked.

"The one who is trying to save your life," I replied. "Get out now!" It was show time and I didn't have the patience to deal with these people. In matters like this, every second counted.

Everyone ran out of the locker room if they could. The demons who weren't caught in the water tried to run out the front and back doors but got trapped under the Key. "Damnit!" they yelled along with other choice phrases.

The front entrance slammed shut and I could hear the sand being poured on the other die. Looking at the players that were trapped, my jaw dropped. The players were huge. They had to be the linebackers of the team. The smallest person trapped was the one trapped alone in a Key.

I shut the front door when I saw that we had all seven demons incapacitated. I walked over to the showers and drew a salt line at the entrance of it. Five of the demons were trapped in Keys while the other two were trapped in the Holy Water.

John sauntered from the opposite entrance to where I was and for the first time since I had known him, I felt fear. I was afraid of what John was going to do because I saw a ferocity in his eyes that I had never seen before. "Who is the bastard that is in charge?" he yelled.

"That would be me," said the boy trapped in the middle Key.

"Seth?" John said.

He had to be one of Dean's friends if John knew his name. He had a big C on his uniform telling me that he was a team captain. "Not at the moment," he said.

"No," John whispered.

"John Winchester," the captain of the football team said. "We've been waiting for you."

Everything told me that I wasn't going to like how this ended. Even when we sent these demons back to hell, life would never be the same.

**Here is the next chapter. I would've posted it sooner, but I wasn't happy with something about it. I spent a few nights trying to figure out what it was. After a lot of tweaking, I think that I finally got it right. I know that this chapter has a lot going on, but I didn't know where to end it. I hope this turned out all right. Thanks for all of the amazing reviews. I think it's three more chapters after this. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own the characters that you've never heard of before and the idea behind this story. That's it.**

The demon stood in front of us pacing back and forth in the Key, waiting for us to do something. For John to say something. "What are you talking about?" John finally asked.

"I'm guessing that you're here because you got the message we sent. Vicariously through your son, I must add. Ingenious don't you think?" he scoffed.

I stood there watching the boy with a demon inside of him cockily continue to pace in front of us in the Key. "You son of a bitch!" John yelled. He stopped outside of the Key. I knew that it took everything in him to keep him from lunging at the demon. He settled for holding a gun to the demon's head. "Using my son to get to me."

"Back off, John boy," the demon laughed. John put the gun away, stepped into the Key and pushed the demon against the invisible wall of it. "You don't want to hurt one of Dean's friends, do you?" John's arms dropped to his side and he stepped back out. The demon dusted his shoulders and smiled. "And using your son? No. Your son was the target. You obviously can't see how important he is."

Important? How is Dean important to the side of evil? I thought that Sam was the one that the demons were after. "What do you want with Dean?" I asked.

The demon turned to me, smiling a smile I just wanted to rip off his face. "You'll see. In time, in time."

"You aren't coming after my son again," John growled, and I couldn't help but think the same thing.

"You can't protect them both," the demon laughed.

"Of course, I can. I'm their father. That's my job." And he had me to help him.

"You obviously didn't do a very good job with the older one. He's strong-willed. I'll give you that. Didn't scream once. But I guarantee you that if we had him just a day longer, we would've broken him."

I shook where I stood as I listened to him talk about Dean. I took a few deep breaths to regain my composure. "If he was the target, why is he still alive?" I asked.

"The order wasn't to kill him. Just use him. Send a message. Break him. Make his heart stop being so selfless," the demon said. "I mean, has the kid ever thought about himself before anyone else?" No. "Breaking a heart that good shakes the scale. Not tips it. Just shakes it. We'll get it to tip eventually. But oh, when we finally tip the scale."

"And the cutting him was just for sport?" I asked.

"No," the leader answered. "One of these lower level demons was looking for some wings. Being that good and all that stuff just always comes with the assumption that we're dealing with an angel. He's not one of the smarter demons in the pit. But that Dean, he is an angel, isn't he? I mean, in every sense except the angel and halo and whole being dead thing."

"You could've killed him," John yelled.

"Like I said, John, that wasn't the order. And we're not going to go against a direct order."

"A demon with loyalty to someone other himself?" I asked.

The other demons in the room laughed. It was the first time any of them had made a sound since we trapped them. "As much as we like the chaos and disorder, there are some things that even we are afraid of. And it's easier to take orders than to make the decisions ourselves."

"So, there is a stronger demon than you boneheads that wants Dean dead?" John hissed.

"Eventually. Not now. I mean, where is the fun in that? Trying to break a Winchester, break _him_, brings me so much more enjoyment. It's the entertainment of the Underworld."

I had to keep reminding myself that any damage I wanted to do to the demon, I couldn't. He still possessed a kid and I had to show a lot of restraint. "You clearly didn't have any fun since you couldn't break him. You don't know my son. He's strong. It would take a lot more than a week of torture to break him."

"But what about the threat of us going after his family?" The demons sure did their research on their target. "He knew that we could've gone after you guys any chance we got. You, Sam along with everyone he cares about would get hurt and he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it because he was tied to a chair. He would've felt so much guilt. It's so angsty, it makes me grin. But, as much fun as the angst would've been, we needed the network."

"Is that why you went after him?"

"One, but not the only reason. Orders John. More than one."

"What are the other reasons?" I needed to know.

"You don't get to know, Bobby Singer." He stared at me as if his eyes were digging into my soul. "It's a little too early for that in the conversation. And it isn't your business."

"That is my son you're messing with," John yelled.

The demon turned back to John. "Then you should know how to protect him!" he yelled back. The demon squinted in John's direction, looking for a reaction. "I don't need to tell you how important he is to the fight for the side of good."

What the hell was this demon trying to say? "He's a hunter. Of course, he's important to this fight," John said. But there was something in his voice that sounded different. I just couldn't point it out. His tone was guarded.

"He's more than that. But you already knew that," the demon said. The demon smiled. "You know."

That statement made me want to divert my anger from the demons to John. He knew something about Dean and he was keeping from me. "I didn't think it was real."

"Of course it's real. How the hell do you think that good is surviving on this plane and evil isn't? So, now the real question is," the demon started, "now that you know how important your oldest son is, along with the importance of your youngest, which do you protect?" he asked John. Like he would ever choose between his two sons. "The one that our side wants alive or the one that our side wants dead?"

Dead? They wanted Dean dead. And John knew about it and didn't tell me. "Why wouldn't I be able to protect both of them?" John asked.

"Because you don't get o be the winner in all of this, Johnnie boy. You of all people should know that you can't save everyone."

"My sons aren't just anyone," John spat. Those words were so loaded now.

"You know that. And I know that. So, what makes you think that everyone else in this never-ending fight doesn't know that? Those higher ups sitting in their clouds just watching us make our move. Sending one being to be his protector. One being. Like that's enough." The demons began to laugh hysterically. "You really need to stop leaving your son alone. Bad things happened to him when you do."

"You won't be able to go after my son."

"You think so?" the demon challenged. "The day that you let your guard down, we'll be there. Papa Winchester isn't going to be able to protect his kids. And that brings us to the second reason of why we're actually here. To warn you."

"Warn me? What kind of demon gives warnings?"

"Our side wants a challenge so we actually want you to watch over your oldest. Because this, right here," he said, pointing around him, "was too damn easy."

"Easy?"

"You didn't catch on fast enough, did you?" the demon raised an eyebrow to John.

"No," John replied remorsefully. He knew that if he caught on sooner, then this would've never happened. Dean would be all right.

"We could've easily beat up Dean then left and let you guys keep thinking we were just after the network. We could've and you wouldn't have ever known," the demon said. "But your son did. He knew something was going on. So, we had to speed up our plan and get to him before he got to us. Not that he could've done anything."

"He got away from you, didn't he?" I challenged.

"With help. But the next time you leave him, we'll get him again. And you won't be able to help him."

"That day won't come." John stepped to the edge of the Key.

"You think you can stop us?" The demon did the same, his and John's face a little more than an inch apart.

"I can damn well try!" John yelled.

"You're a hunter. Just one hunter."

"I have help."

The demon looked to me, dark, cold, and calculating. He took a step back. "Right, because Robert Singer, in his ripe old age, can do some real damage reading his damn books. There aren't enough hunters on the planet to be able to fight against what's coming. He doesn't even know the truth about the middle Winchester. Tell me, Robert Singer, what has your books told you about a Pu—"

"I'm tired of listening to you speak," John interrupted

John sounded like he was trying to hide something. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" the demon yelled. "Send us back to hell one by one?"

"Signal Caleb now," John told me.

I nodded and took a few steps to the fire alarm. I held a lighter to a sprinkler and Holy Water rained down from it. The demons' eyes widened when they felt their suits hissing with the water touched it. They became more panicked when they realized they were trapped in the Keys and the salt line. "You son of a bitch!" the head demon yelled.

Then static came up on the intercom. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…" Caleb read over the loud speaker.

"I'll be back," the demon threatened. "We'll all be back."

"I'll be waiting!" John hissed.

"And we're going straight for your son. I'll personally carve out his heart! I'll be the one to end the war and start our reign. Say goodbye to your oldest!"

"I'll just say goodbye to you," John spat. "Bye," he said as Caleb finished the prayer.

All seven demons screamed as they left the body they were using. The water stopped falling and I knew that Caleb had something to do with it. The bodies fell to the ground as the last drops of water fell.

I ran to the closest person and checked for a pulse. When I felt one, I moved onto the next, and the next, watching as John did the same. "Are they all right?" I asked.

"Yeah. All have strong pulses. They should be waking up soon." John said. He sighed and ran his hand down his face wiping off the drops of Holy Water. A great weight should've been lifted off his shoulders, but it looked like the opposite. He walked over to the football team captain and started patting him on the cheek. "Seth, wake up," John said. "Come on, it's time to get off the floor."

I walked over and heard him groan as he slowly opened his eyes. "Mr. Winchester?" Seth asked.

"How are you feeling?" John asked.

"I don't know," the teen replied, trying to sit up. I helped him and John put a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. "What happened?" he asked us. "I feel like I've been sleeping for weeks."

"It's okay," I replied.

The expression on his face looked like he suddenly remembered something. "And Dean!" Seth yelled. "What did I do to him?"

"You didn't do anything," John said, reassuringly.

"But I remember some of it," Seth said. "We tied him to a chair. And there was so much blood. I think I'm going to be sick." He quickly stood up and ran to the nearest trashcan. I walked over to him and patted him on his back. "Is he all right?" he asked when he calmed his breathing. I helped him to the sink and he washed out his mouth.

"He's fine, Seth," John replied. "I'll tell him to call you when I see him."

"But he's okay, right, Mr. Winchester?"

"He's fine, Seth," I assured.

Seth looked at me, scared. "Who are you?"

"Dean's uncle," John and I replied simultaneously.

"Seth," John started, "you want to help us start waking up your teammates?"

"Yeah, yeah. I can do that."

Seth went over to his nearest teammate and woke him up. A few them were doing so on their own. By the time the last one had woken up, Caleb came barreling into the room. "Hey, is everyone all right?" he asked.

"Just fine, Caleb," I replied.

"You boys get out of here," John said to the players. They were more than willing to leave the room and just forget about what happened. Except one. "You too, Seth."

"Mr. Winchester," he whispered. "What really happened?"

"I wish I knew, Seth."

"You do know. I know that you know. Mr. Winchester, Dean is a friend of mine, and if I did something to him, I want to know."

"You didn't do anything to Dean," I replied.

"Then why doesn't it feel like it? I just want to know the truth."

"I don't think you'll be able to handle what we tell you, Seth," I said.

"Is it the reason that Dean always comes to school with those messed up injuries?" the teen asked.

And the three of us hunters froze.

John was the first to break out of his temporary paralysis. None of us could believe that the teen was pressing for answers. But the hard part was what were we supposed to tell him. He wanted the truth, but at what cost? "What are you talking about, Seth?" John asked.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm not stupid," Seth replied. "I've asked Dean about the injuries and he said that I wouldn't understand. I don't understand any of this right now. All of us here care about Dean even though for some reason he doesn't want us to. But we see him limping to class or taking loads of pain pills. And people talk, and we know that you aren't doing it to him."

"Seth, I don't think—"

"If you're going to say that you can't tell me because it would put my life in danger or some bull like that, you're a little too late." He was right. What a way to get thrown into this lifestyle.

"Seth," I started. "We can't tell you what goes on in Dean's life, only he can. Our lives are very private. But you want to know. We'll tell Dean that if he wants to tell you the truth, then he can. As long as you can handle it."

"I can," Seth replied to me without a hint of fear in his voice.

And I could see why Dean and this boy were friends. Both were brave and stubborn to a fault. "I believe you," I replied.

"I'll tell Dean to give you a call when we see him."

"Tell him I'm sorry," Seth apologized. "Even though he probably doesn't blame me."

"I will," John said. "Now you get out of here."

"Okay," he replied. He walked toward the exit of the locker room. Before he was completely out of our sight, he turned around. "And Mr. Winchester, thanks. For doing whatever you did. I'm pretty sure you saved my life. All of our lives. Thanks."

"You're welcome," John said.

"You guys, too," he said to Caleb and me.

I tipped my hat to him, and Caleb gave him a salute. John let out a long sigh before he turned back to the Caleb and me. "Let's get out of here."

And I couldn't agree more with John. High school sure had gotten more complicated since I'd been it.

**Here is the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who has been so patient and waiting for my updates. I've been working on a one-shot. Lighter than this story. I'll post it when this is through because it has a small link between it. I hope that this turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own the idea behind the story and the characters you've never heard of before.**

We jumped into the trucks and drove. I had my truck and Caleb rode with John in the Sierra. An unspoken message passed between the three of us and we headed to John's place. We wanted to drive straight to my house, but John and me weren't in the best state of mind to be speeding all the way back to South Dakota.

We got to John's house and I was relieved to be able to relax a little. I got out of my car and was followed by the youngest hunter among us toward the entrance of the house. "You want to tell me what went on in there, Bobby?" Caleb asked.

I looked back at Caleb, confused. "Didn't John tell you?"

"He hasn't said anything since we left the school. I stopped prying because he looked like he wanted to kill me."

John made his way toward us and unlocked the front door. He walked in, not even acknowledging that we were there. "John? You all right?" I asked walking into the house. The only reply that I got was a door slamming. I shouldn't have been surprised.

"You know, you could always tell me," Caleb said.

I could have, but I didn't want to. It was a lot of information that we received, and it exhausted me. "Not my place," I replied.

I plopped onto the couch hoping that was the end of our discussion. But Caleb stood in front of the television with his arms crossed across his chest. "Just tell me what happened."

"It's too big of a burden for you to have to carry, Caleb," I replied.

"What the hell does that even mean? What burden?"

"Just promise me that you'll keep an eye on and protect Dean."

"You don't even have to ask," Caleb replied. "Where are you guys going?"

"We aren't going anywhere."

"So, who is dying?" Caleb had no idea how much those words struck a chord.

"No one." Not if I had anything to do about it.

"Well, you're making it seem like something is coming that Dean needs to get protected against that John can't take care of himself." I didn't reply. "Well?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"And what do they want with Dean?"

"I don't know."

"Liar!" he yelled.

The door to John's room flew open and halted our argument. "Pack up whatever you brought here. We're leaving," John commanded.

"No, we're not," I replied.

"Yeah," Caleb agreed. "Not until I know what went down in that locker room."

"No, because you're in no condition to be driving."

"I need to get back to Dean!" John yelled. "You heard what they said."

I grabbed John by the shoulders and shook him. "You won't do him any good with your car wrapped around a tree. You're anger is blinding you. You won't even be able to drive in a straight line. "

John looked down. He knew I was right. I let go of him and we both sighed. "I need to protect my sons, Bobby," he whispered. "I need to protect Dean. You heard them."

"And you will. We'll leave in the morning."

"What if…" John's voice trailed off.

"No," I said adamantly. "None of this 'what if' bull. No, what if we can't protect him, or what if something happened to him while we're away. I don't want to hear any of it." John nodded once, turned and walked away from us. He slowly closed the door to his room. I looked back at Caleb who stood in front of me, frozen. "You still want to know?"

He shook his head. "No," he whispered. "If it has John spooked, I don't think I'll be able to handle it. Just tell me whatever you need me to do."

"Protect Dean."

"You don't even have to mention that. Just… keep me on a need to know basis. If it gets bad enough…"

"I'll tell you," I replied. "Now, get some shuteye. I think that John will want to leave as soon as possible." Caleb turned without a word and walked into the boy's room leaving me with the couch. "Damn you, John Winchester." I tilted my hat over my eyes and tried to fall asleep.

But I thought about Dean. I should've called him to tell him the hunt was over, but I couldn't see straight to dial the number to my house. Calming John had expended the rest of the energy that I had left. I tried to convince myself that he was fine. I didn't do a very good job because there was a nagging in the back of my mind about his wellbeing, even until I fell into a fitful night of sleep.

I woke when the sun came up. My body was never one to let me sleep through any form of light. I sat up from the couch, with a crick in my neck, when I heard a door open. I lifted my hat from my eyes and saw John standing in front of me in a different set of clothes. "Let's go."

"What about Caleb?"

"Harrison!" John yelled.

The door to the boy's room opened up and Caleb walked out, rubbing his eyes. "I'm up," he yawned. "We can go."

"Pack up your things."

"Already done," Caleb said, letting out another yawn.

John walked out of the house. Caleb and I grabbed our bags and we followed him out. When we got out, John had gotten into his truck and slammed the door shut. "Caleb, you're with me," I said. He let out a deep sigh of relief and gratefulness. "John!" I yelled. He craned his neck out of his window. "Take lead."

John rolled his eyes to tell me that he already knew that. He tucked back into his car, rolled up his window, and started it.

Caleb got into the passenger seat of my truck. I threw my bag between us and got in myself. I started my truck. John pulled onto the road and waited for me to do the same. As soon as I got on his tail, we were on our way.

The ride back home was quiet. And awkward. If it were so awkward with just Caleb and me, I could only imagine how awkward a car ride would have been with Caleb and John. Minimal words were spoken between me and the young hunter. We just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

It was hard enough to stay close to John without breaking the speed limit. Which for some reason I cared about. I guess I didn't want something as stupid as a speeding ticket to delay me from getting home.

We reached my house in record time. By the time I pulled into a space near my house, John was already jogging up the porch steps and toward the front door. Something was missing from my porch, but I couldn't worry about that at the moment. I hastily shut off my engine and ran after him. Caleb wasn't far behind.

I got in my house in time to hear John yelling. "Dean?" John yelled. He opened the door to Dean's room. "Dean, where are you? Dean!" John yelled, fear evident in his voice. He ran out of Dean's room to face me and Caleb. "He's not in his room." And guilt came over me. I should've called Dean last night.

Where the hell could that kid have gone? I know that the demons couldn't have come after Dean. John said that there were seven people possessed, there were seven demons in the locker room. I know there we no time for any of them to sneak off and go after Dean because we exorcised all of them. But that didn't mean another set couldn't have made their way here. But my house had traps everywhere. And it looked undisturbed.

But that left us with the question, where the hell was he? "I'll check upstairs," Caleb said. "Blaze!" he yelled as he jogged up the stairs.

"Dean!" I yelled.

I remembered what was missing from my porch. Rumsfeld was missing. Not only was Dean missing, but so was my dog. Caleb came running down the stairs. "He's not up there."

John turned to walk down a hallway and search through the other rooms in my house. "Dean!"

Just what John needed, another reason to be worried about his oldest. I needed a drink. I headed toward my kitchen to pour me some whiskey. All the worrying and stress wasn't doing any good to the remaining color on my head. As I got closer to my kitchen, I saw a pair of legs sticking out. "Dean?" I whispered. I quickly made it to his side. Rumsfeld was resting near his head, looking bored. I thought the worst until I saw a pillow and blanket was also scattered on my floor. "Hey, Rumsfeld. How's our little patient?" I asked him and scratched him behind the ears. The only reply I received was a whine. "Dean, wake up," I whispered, trying to shake him awake. His eyes slowly peeled open. "Dean." As slowly as his eyes opened, they fell closed again. "Found him!" I yelled. Dean twitched at the yelling.

Caleb and John were hovering over my shoulder no more than ten seconds later. John knelt at his son's head lightly patted his cheek. "Dean, come on," he whispered.

His eyes opened again, faster than before. "Dad? Bobby?" he whispered.

"Caleb's here too," Caleb added not wanting to be forgotten. "You just shaved some years off of all our lives with this little stunt, Blaze."

"Are you hurt?" John asked.

"No new injuries, if that's what you're asking," Dean replied.

Dean's eyes roamed up to meet Caleb who was standing over all of us. "What the hell are you doing down there, Blaze?"

"Sleeping," Dean mumbled.

He stretched for his pillow that was out of reach. I leaned over and grabbed it for him, tucking it under his head. "On the kitchen floor?" Caleb asked.

"It's cooler than in my room."

"But on my kitchen floor?" I repeated.

"Fine," Dean said. "I'll move back to my bed."

"We can help," Caleb said. Caleb knelt down next to his friend. "Keep getting injuries like this, Dean and you're not going to make it to thirty. I guarantee it."

"Ouch, that hurts, Caleb."

"I'd bet money that you wouldn't make it to thirty with the way you are."

"Making bets on my life, Caleb?"

"Well, with that sacrificing complex you have, you're lucky that I'm giving you that thirty."

"So, does that mean this is my midlife crisis."

"No," we all replied.

"I guess that it's time to get up." Dean tried to sit up quickly, but the stiffness of his movements told me his body didn't approve. He groaned as he lowered himself back to the ground. Rumsfeld stood up and paced around Dean. "It's okay, puppy," Dean replied, scratching Rumsfeld behind the ears. He sighed and rolled his eyes at his weakness that even my puppy could read.

John and I helped sit him up, then gradually pulled him to his feet. "You're not moving on your own for a month," John said as we walked him back to his room.

"What if I have to pee?"

"Caleb will carry you," I replied.

"No," Caleb and Dean replied simultaneously.

"I'll help you to the bathroom, Blaze. But carrying you is out of the question. You're bulking up."

"You'd drop me," Dean laughed.

"Not because I can't lift you, but because I know that you're hardhead wouldn't be affected at all."

We made it to the room and sat Dean down on the bed. The back of my hand went to his forehead. "Your fever broke," I replied.

"Last night."

"So, how are you feeling, Dean?" I asked.

I lifted his wrists one by one and looked them over. I was satisfied when there was no blood. "I'm feeling good," he replied. It almost sounded honest. "Better than I've been feeling for a few days."

Which wasn't saying much because he had a really crappy few days. "But not a hundred percent," Caleb added.

Dean nodded instead of trying to deny it. "How are you doing, Dad?" he asked.

John hadn't said anything since we stepped into the room. "You need to stop worrying about me. And don't avoid the question, how are you feeling?"

"No, I'm not completely well, but that's expected," Dean replied. I knew that was the best answer we were going to get from him.

I took the next few minutes to look over all the bandages and realized that his clothes and bandages were changed. "You changed your bandages yourself?" I asked.

"Had to. You guys weren't here and I needed a shower."

"Nice job," I replied.

When I was done checking him over, I pulled up my chair and sat at Dean's bedside. I looked at him intently, realizing how important he was to everything good in the world. Our not-so-secret weapon. "Dean, I want you to tell me something."

"Sure thing, Bobby," he replied. He was always so cooperative with me.

"How did you get away? Because those guys were huge, and those rope burns on your wrists and ankles tells me that you were bound pretty tightly." I wanted to know how crafty this Winchester was, although I had an idea.

"I was," he replied. He lifted up his hands and stared at the bandages wrapped around his wrists.

"So, how did you get out of there?"

"There was this guy," Dean started. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw John look up. "I'd never seen him before. And he definitely wasn't on the football team because I know everyone of those players. I actually don't think that I've ever seen him on campus before."

"Did he at least give you a name?" I asked. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he told me that he got help from a stranger.

"He said his name was Gabe. That's it, no last name. He said he was there to make sure I was okay. He untied me and helped me to the Impala. Then he just disappeared."

"Really?" his father asked.

I looked up and saw Caleb standing in the doorway. "I may have blacked out and when I woke up, he was gone. Disappeared. Then I drove to where I thought I could find you, dad. And when I couldn't find you, I drove here."

"No phone call?" John asked.

"I couldn't risk it, dad. You know that," Dean replied.

"So you'd rather risk my ass?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "And you enjoy sending demons back anyway."

"Yeah," I admitted. "What can I say? This gig adds a lot of excitement to my life."

Dean laughed, and so did everyone else in the room. Except John. But then again, he didn't laugh often. Dean caught it. "Dad?" he asked.

"Dean, Seth knows something," John said.

Dean's eyes widened at his father's statement. "What do you mean? Did you tell him?"

"It wasn't our place. It's yours," I replied.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yes," John answered.

"I don't know," Dean whispered, running his fingers through his hair.

"If you want my opinion," I started, "I think you should tell him."

"What?" the three of them asked.

"I think it's a good idea. It might do you some good to have a friend that you can talk to about all of this."

"Are you kidding me, Bobby?" Dean asked. "You want me to expose him to this life? To take away his innocence."

"He was possessed. This life stole his innocence from him," Caleb said. "I have to agree with Bobby. I think that it would be better if he learned about our world from you and not from some other demon."

"And what happens when we leave?" Dean asked. "Then I won't be able to protect him."

And there was that damn complex of him once again. "Who said that it was your responsibility?" I asked.

"I bring him into our world, I have to keep him safe. They used my friends to get to me."

"He'll just keep asking you to tell him," I told him.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean said. "Write him a hunting manual for dummies?"

"It takes a dummy to have write one of those books," Caleb replied. "You'd be perfect."

"Funny," Dean sneered.

"Just answer his questions," I said. "If he wants a manual, then write one." Dean rolled his eyes at me. "But in the end, it's your decision."

"I want to tell him," Dean replied. "But I don't want to leave him vulnerable once we have to leave."

"You won't," I reassured.

"You don't know that."

"Nothing is ever fully known living this lifestyle."

Dean let out a sigh and I knew that Dean was going to add a new friend to our circle of hunters. Then Rumsfeld started to bark up a storm, turning everyone's attention to the entrance of the room. "Puppy's sensed something," Caleb said.

Then the barking stopped. And I got worried. Caleb walked out into the living room to check out who or what it was. The front door swung open and I heard a large object, most likely Caleb, fall. I looked around the room for anything I could use as a weapon, while John paced around the bed to make sure the salt circle around it wasn't broken.

And faster than we could blink an eye, a small figure was on the bed next to Dean. "Dean," he whispered.

"Sammy?" Dean replied. Caleb reentered the room dusting himself off.

Sam threw his arms around his brother and hugged him carefully. Even though Sam was careful, Dean groaned when he hugged him. When they parted, he glanced his brother over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "How did you get here?"

"Pastor Jim just finished his hunt and we drove all the way here."

"What was he hunting?" I asked. I knew that Dean didn't want his brother to be worrying about him. He really hated the role reversal.

"That's not important," Sam said quickly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

It made me feel good inside that no matter how old those two got, they were still protective and caring of each other. "Yeah, I promise," Dean replied.

"Liar," Sam replied, easily reading through is brother's lie. "But whatever."

"I'll be fine in a few days."

"But we left you."

The three older hunters made a move to walk out the door to leave the brothers alone, but I saw the look in Dean's eyes. He didn't want to be left alone with his brother. Not yet. He couldn't be vulnerable around his little brother. I put an arm out and stopped John and Caleb from walking out of the room. "Sam, don't worry about it."

"No," Sam yelled adamantly. "I told dad we should've waited for you. You could've died."

Jim chose that moment to walk into the room. He joined us and stood against the nearest wall and watched the brothers. "I think you're over-exaggerating," Dean replied.

"I don't think I am, Dean. I knew something was wrong. I felt it. You could be dead right now."

"Quit being such a drama queen, Sammy."

"No!" Sam yelled and a tear fell from his eyes. "You don't get it, do you, Dean? You're my brother. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here, right now. And I don't even want to think about what dad would do if he wanted revenge for the deaths of two people he cared about. You keep us sane, Dean."

"Full-time job there," Dean replied. "And don't be mad at dad for leaving me. It kept you safe."

"And what about you? I don't want to bury you," Sam whispered.

My eyes widened at the confession. Those words relayed all the fear Sam had been feeling the past week. "I'm the older brother. By the laws of everything I'm supposed to die before you." And there was Dean to lighten the situation, like he always did. Even as inappropriate as it was.

"But not at seventeen, Dean."

"I'm not dying at seventeen," Dean countered. Thirty. Caleb gave him until the age of thirty.

"You don't get it, Dean. You _almost_ died," Sam stressed.

"What did Pastor Jim tell you? And besides, almost dying is all in a day's work with the life we live."

"You're impossible."

"You love me anyways," Dean countered with a grin. Sam tried to hold back a yawn. "Have you slept at all, Sammy?"

"No much," Sam replied letting the yawn out.

"Why?"

"Worried about you."

"Jump on the other side of the bed and close your eyes."

"Dean, I'm not a kid anymore."

"I don't give a damn. You're my little brother. You need to get some sleep." Sam sat and stared defiantly at his brother. "If your afraid I'm hurt, I'm here to tell you that I am. But I'm safe now." He looked at me and me, no dishonesty in his eyes. He really believed what he was saying. "So, you can stop worrying about me."

"I have to worry about you. Because you don't worry about yourself enough."

"Fine," Dean replied. "But come and get some sleep. Caleb, Bobby, Pastor Jim and Dad won't let anything happen to us. To me."

The kid sure got that right.

Both brothers looked to the adults in the room and we nodded. Sam walked around to the other side of the bed and laid next to his brother. Within a few seconds, the youngest Winchester's snoring echoed throughout the room. Dean ran his hand through his brother's hair and smiled when Sam relaxed a little more. "Dean," John said. He looked up at his father. "Watch over your brother."

"You know I will, dad," he replied.

The four of us walked out of the room into my study. "Anyone want to fill me in on what I missed?" Jim asked, oblivious to everything that went down.

"Caleb," I said. "Tell him what's going on." Caleb nodded in reply. "John, outside, now."

I walked outside and John followed me. We walked into the middle of the car yard to talk. It was the best spot on my lot because it was away from everything. And when the inevitable fight broke out between us, no one would be able to hear it.

**Here is the next chapter. I know it was a little lengthy and not much went on, I just didn't know where to cut off the chapter. I didn't really want to separate it into two or add something to the next chapter because the end deserved a chapter all its own. One chapter to go. Thanks for reading everyone. Please review. Lil-Rock**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: At this point, should know who I own by now. But if you don't, it's the people you've never heard of before and the idea behind the story.**

John and me stood in the middle of two rows of piled cars far enough away from my house. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask him. So many things that I want to tell him. I just didn't know where to start. "Is there something that you have to say to me, Bobby?" he asked.

He must've seen something in my eyes. But my guess was he thought that I was going to lecture him. And I was going to, especially after what I heard from Sam and the demons. A good enough place to start. "Why did you leave him?" I asked. "He was missing, and you just left. That's not like you, John."

Being the military man that he was, John never left a soldier behind. But even more importantly, he would never leave his son behind unless there was really good reason to do so. And I couldn't think of any reason why John would just leave his son. "I didn't want to," he replied.

"Well, you did, John," I scolded. "Why would your leave your son?"

"Gabe told me to. He said he had everything covered and all that I had to worry about was those seven demons." John paused, and I knew not to interrupt. "I looked everywhere for him, Bobby. Everywhere I could possibly think of, but there were no clues. I wasn't going to find him until they wanted me to find him."

And John was right. The demons weren't going to make it easy for John. Not now that he knew.

One topic down, and it felt like there were hundreds more to go. We both had our secrets when it came to Dean. "Yeah, right. Secrets," I said, the words slipping out of my mouth unconsciously and so quickly that I couldn't stop them if I tried. I must have sounded like a total nitwit.

"What did you say?" John asked.

"Nothing," I replied quickly trying to cover my ass.

"You know something," John said. Actually, it was more of an accusation.

"Now isn't the time, John," I replied.

"Then when? Look, if it has to do with Dean, then you have to tell me," John said.

"You mean like how you knew what the demon was talking about. You knew the reason why they went after him." I could've yelled, but my voice sounded more dangerous when I spoke calmly. "And you didn't tell me." He didn't trust me with his son's life. And knowing that hurt.

"That's different."

"How?" I asked. "Because he's your son? And you don't think that I consider him a son." That didn't seem like a good enough reason for him to keep this vital information from me.

"I know you do," John replied. "But I didn't know what to do with that information."

"You tell someone. You tell me," I said adamantly. I wasn't giving him a choice for the next time something like this came along. "They almost broke your son because of this information that you decided to keep from us."

"What?" John asked.

"The first night he was here, he had a fever dream. He said he wanted to die."

"No," John said in disbelief. "Not Dean. He isn't that weak."

"Obviously, he can be sometimes. He's only human." John looked as if he were about to throw up. "Now, since I've disclosed some important information about your son, it's your turn." John looked up to me, his eyes full of pain. "John, you better choose the next words coming out of your mouth wisely, because the wrong ones you could end up with a chest full of rocksalt."

He looked away from me, unable to seem vulnerable around me. "I couldn't tell you, Bobby."

"Wrong answer, John!" I yelled and John flinched. John was lucky that I didn't have a shotgun within reach. "What are you hiding from me!" He turned to face me again.

"Nothing," he replied calmly. And something was wrong when John was the calmer of the two of us.

"Liar." I grabbed his shirt and slammed him up against the wall of rusty cars. Forget the shotgun. I could've just strangled him right there.

"Bobby, I swear to you," he whispered. "This is my son. You know that I never lie when it comes to my sons."

I let go of John and stepped away from him. "John, just tell me," I said reassuringly. "Whatever it is."

"Bobby, what do I do?" he continued as if he didn't hear a word I just said.

Instead of continuing with where I wanted the conversation to go, I froze. John never asked for help or advice when it came to taking care of his sons. He felt he was doing a decent enough job without us interfering. "What do you mean?"

"You heard those demons. They want Dean dead." John scratched the back of his head and looked away from me. He let out a nervous laugh. "I'll tell you one thing."

"What?" I asked.

"Dean's never going hunting on his own. Never. Not if I have anything to say about it. Even if I have to handcuff Caleb and him together." He sighed. "I guess that it's a good thing I didn't come home for Christmas all those years ago," John whispered.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. To me it seemed like a random thought that popped into John's head.

"When Dean got the amulet you gave to Sam. The one that was meant for me."

That amulet. "I was wondering how he ended up with that," I replied. I let out a loud sigh. "I guess he needs it more than you do now." John needed the protection back then. He was starting to go after the really nasty stuff and I wasn't able to watch his back every time he went on a hunt. It must've been fate for the amulet to fall into Dean's hands. He needed it now. It could keep him safe in ways that me or his father wouldn't be able to.

"He needs all the protection we can give him. Those demons won't get a chance to go after my son. I don't care if all of Hell wants him dead."

"I know that they want him dead, but I don't know why."

"Dean's a good kid."

I resisted the urge to slap my forehead. "I know he's a good kid," I replied, irritated. We all knew that there wasn't a bad bone in Dean's body. "But why do they want him dead?"

"Dean is a good kid," John said again.

"I know that, John," I repeated in the same tone and pressed for a real answer. I didn't want this conversation to just leave us going in circles.

"No, Bobby. He's a _good_ kid. He's an instrument of good. At least, that's what the messages have told me."

"What kind of messages?" I asked cautiously.

"Messages a sage sent me," he replied in the same tone.

"A sage?" I asked. I wasn't sure what I heard so I had to repeat it.

"Sapere."

"A real sage," I repeated, not quite believing what John had said. That is what a sapere was. A messenger and a wise one.

"Yeah."

"Came to you and told you that Dean is an instrument of good?"

He hesitated for a second. "Yes."

The hesitation told me that he was telling me the truth. But like John said, he was always serious when it came to his sons. "So, they actually told you that Dean is important to this fight."

"Like you didn't know that already."

I did know. As soon as the kid looked into my eyes when I first met him I felt it and I knew there was something special about the kid. And there had to be something in the world to balance out Sam and the evil that he is supposed to become. I just didn't think that it would come from the same family, brothers nonetheless. "How long have you been getting these messages?"

"Since Dean's sixteenth birthday."

That was over a year ago, and John hadn't mentioned it once. "And you're only telling me this now?" I asked, angry and frustrated.

"I was ignoring them at first. And when I finally started to listen, Gabe said that when it needed to come out, it would."

"Who the hell is Gabe?" Gabe. It was the third time that I've heard that name today. I guess that name has become more common than I remembered it.

"The sapere," John replied as if the answer was obvious.

"That's who gave you the information about the football players, isn't it?" When John didn't reply, I knew it was the truth. "So, this Gabe is the one who got Dean out of wherever the football players were keeping him."

"Most likely. He said that he was going to make sure Dean was safe. He got him out of danger." John paused and paced in front of me. "Doesn't it feel a little better that we have some higher power on our side, for once?"

It was a relief. Until that point, I thought that we were fighting on our own. That the high and mighties up in the skies were just watching us deal with everything ourselves. But at the moment, it didn't matter. The help would be there tomorrow, and we didn't need it at that exact moment. I needed to get into John's head. That was more important. "So, what are we going to do?" I asked. "What are _you_ going to do?"

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" He had no idea what I was asking.

"If you have to make the choice, which son are you going to protect? Because at the end of all of this, you're most likely going to have to make a decision."

And I couldn't believe that I had asked that question, but it had been nagging me since the demon asked and I didn't hear an answer. And being in the middle of nowhere without any distractions, the words just escaped. I knew that John would've rather died than chose between his two sons. I didn't expect him to answer. "Help me protect Dean," he whispered.

He said it so softly that I almost didn't hear him. But I caught the words, and if he had to repeat himself, he probably would've taken back whatever answer he gave. He was choosing Dean. John actually made a choice. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," John whispered. "Dean can protect Sam. He can protect him much better than I can. He's been doing it since he was four years old. I can't let them get my son."

"John, we can protect both of your sons. Between you, me, Caleb, Jim and every other one of the hunters in our circle, we can keep Dean and Sam safe."

"No!" he yelled. "They can't know."

"So, you're protecting Dean while Dean is protecting Sammy." Chain of command. Like talking to a real military man.

"Dean will protect Sammy. He's the only one who can." There was no one in the world who could protect Sam the way that Dean could. "Only I can protect Dean." And I finally realized the burden that John had been carrying since Dean's sixteenth birthday. I couldn't be mad at him for wanting to protect his son. For needing to protect an instrument of good. "I don't trust anyone else with their lives. With Dean's life."

"And what about Caleb, and Jim?" I asked. "Me."

"I'm not going to burden you three with this."

"What?" I yelled. "Your kids are never a burden. And I've been watching over those two since you brought them to my house all those years ago. You won't be keeping me from protecting those kids." I was adamant about what I said.

"So will you help me keep an eye on my kids. On Dean?" He looked at me, hoping I would say yes.

Like he even had to ask. It was Dean we were talking about. He was already a son to me and I'd protect him as if he were my own child. I nodded to answer wordlessly. But so he knew, I whispered, "Yeah."

John breathed a sigh of relief and looked like a few pounds were lifted off however many pounds were on his shoulders. But the weigh was understandable. Both of his sons were wanted by demons. One alive and one dead. But now, they would have to go through me to get to them.

With my answer, I thought that the conversation had ended, but there was one more thing that John needed to say to me. "Bobby," he started. I looked at him and he knew that he had my full attention. "if something were to happen to me…"

"I'll watch your sons," I finished for him. He didn't need to ask. "I'll make sure that nothing gets to Dean."

"Thank you."

"Don't even mention it," I said. I walked over to John, put my hand on his shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Now we better head back inside before they think that I killed you."

John let out a laugh that didn't sound forced or nervous. I committed it to memory because it was probably going be the last time I'd hear him laugh. From the moment my hand dropped from John's shoulder, protecting the boys became my number one priority.

LRLRLRLRLRLRLRLR

Since that day, Dean has come to me more often. Not just to heal his cuts and bruises, but for help. He is still just as, if not more, stubborn since that day, and his savior, sacrificial complex has only gotten worse. Shed a little of his own blood to keep his family safe. But he does it for his family, like I would do for mine. Family that since the incident included a classmate of Dean's named Seth.

But Sam and Dean are my family. In every sense of the word beside biological.

But…

Family don't end with blood.

**And so the story ends. Amazing. I've actually finished a multichapter story. This is EPIC!! This day needs to be commemorated. Haha…**

**Thanks to the readers who had this story on alert and a special thanks to all my reviewers:**

**Aimed mischief, AllieMcD, alwaysateen, Angela, anjali23sk, anonymous., BeccaWestlifeAddict, bexh1, brooki winchester, C.M.S. Cipriano, DeanBeanWinchester, eacwicked, elemental2181, Enkidu07, FiveForFighting09, HappyChaos913, heather03nmg, indusgirl1313, Lost-Rememberance, Marvin is my Muse, Maz101, Megan Casady, PADavis, parisindy, PurpleSpinx, Relativity1953, Rivana, Sahara'swildeyes, shywalk, staceycj, Sushi Chi, thevigilante15, timetowaste247, Vee-sama, warrior of the shadow, WettX, witchy78, xJasminex, xxdevil9xx, Yammy1983, zuimar**

**If I forgot you, you have permission to leave me a message with all letters in caps lock. Just don't make it too mean, please. I guess this was my prelude to the show. I love creating the backstory to relationships. I hope I didn't disappoint. This is a link to my other story and an idea in my head of how I'm going to save Dean. Yes, I have a way to save Dean. Doesn't everyone? Thanks to everyone for reading. Now I'm on to writing the next one. Please review. Lil-Rock**


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